


The Last McDuck

by thehousethatfloats



Series: Hearts of Gold [2]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 1987), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universes, Angst, F/M, Family, Family Secrets, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scroldie, Time Travel, grandma goldie, grandpa scrooge, solving mysteries and rewriting history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehousethatfloats/pseuds/thehousethatfloats
Summary: Takes place after (and partly before) the events of All That Glitters.Goldie saves Scrooge’s tail and then introduces him to his granddaughter. But as ever with these two, things aren’t quite what they seem.Adventure, shadows, time travel gone awry, family drama and plenty of Scroldie along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neopuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neopuff/gifts), [moon_opals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_opals/gifts).



> Well here we go. I took a grand total of about three days off. 
> 
> This story picks up an indeterminate amount of time after my fic All That Glitters which you don’t HAVE to read first but me and my ego would rather you did.

Prologue

 

Scrooge slumped to the ground in the darkness, defeated and really quite annoyed.

It wasn’t enough that he’d gotten sucked into a faery dimension on their latest adventure, only just managing to get the children out of the way in time before he was swallowed up, but now he’d been dumped in an oubliette of all things, without any hope of escape. And most importantly, he had no idea if the kids had actually made it to safety before he fell. The more he lingered, lost in pitch black nothingness, the more concerned he became.

He tried everything. Climbing, digging, yelling, chanting, jumping, flying, invoking demonic forces, nothing worked.

After five or six hours, he was starting to face the reality that he actually might not get out of this.

He’d never know what happened to the kids. He’d never see them again. He’d never see Donald, or Beakley, or any of them again. He’d never find an answer on how to get Lena back for Webby. He’d never atone for the loss of the boys’ mother all those years ago. He’d never hold Goldie O’Gilt in his arms, and feel her golden hair tickling his cheek as they drifted off to sleep tangled up in his bedsheets after a long night of... _adventuring_... ever again.

Of course that’s when the ceiling opened up, far above his head, and Goldie herself quite literally dropped in.

She rode an air pocket down to the bottom of the oubliette, balanced atop a corrugated iron door like a surf board, like she was catching waves on the ocean. The door clattered to the ground and Goldie leapt off it, landing lightly and brushing none existent dust off her clothes while Scrooge looked on, jaw dropped in awe.

‘Where the devil did you come from?’ He spluttered. Not that he wasn’t pleased to see her - he’d be pleased to see anyone - but the last he’d heard she was off half way up some mountain in Cambodia searching for cursed treasure in a sulk. He’d beaten her score in their last game of _Words_ _with_ _Friends_ and he’d figured it would be at least a month before she forgave him for that.

‘Oh, did you not want help getting out of this hole in the ground?’ Goldie asked, innocently. ‘My mistake. Alright then, if you don’t need me I’ll be on my way.’

Without further ado, she picked the door up off the floor and balanced it carefully against the wall, shifting it a little to the left and back to the right until she heard a satisfying click. She turned the handle and the door swung open, giving her just enough time to slip through it before it slammed shut behind her. Scrooge rolled his eyes and went to follow her, but when he opened the door nothing but pots and pans and broken broom handles fell out. She’d opened the door to a way out. He’d opened it to a storage closet.

Ah, she hadn’t forgiven him then. 

‘Goldie!’ He yelled, slamming the door closed again and banging on it.

‘Yes, Scrooge?’ Answered the voice from the other side. 

‘Open the door!’ Scrooge seethed. ‘This is the worst rescue attempt the world has ever witnessed.’

‘Oh, well since you asked so nicely... no.’ Goldie said simply. Scrooge tried the handle on the door but it wouldn’t budge. He sighed, leaning against the door.

‘Goldie girl, open the door. Please.’ He tried again, banking on pet names and politeness to get him further than force. Still there was silence the other side of the door. Scrooge sighed again, heavily, and slumped in defeat.

‘Alright,’ He said at last. ‘Best two out of three?’

The door opened immediately, and he almost lost his footing. Goldie stood there, hands on her hips, looking mightily pleased with herself.

‘That’s more like it,’ she said, taking out her phone and tapping something into it. ‘I’m winning this time. No letting your damn mad scientist and his algorithm cheat for you.’

‘How do you even have signal down here?’ Scrooge grumbled, but even as he said it his own phone buzzed in his pocket and he saw she’d utterly demolished his score in a single move. He scoffed. ‘Now who’s cheating?’

They faced off for a moment, glaring at each other. Then, in perfect sync, their eyes softened and they smiled instead.

‘Hey there, Moneybags,’ Goldie grinned, tucking her phone in her pocket and leaning against the doorway. ‘What’s a rich old duck like you doing in a hole like this?’

‘I could ask you the same thing,’ Scrooge fired back. ‘Not that I’m complaining.’

‘Of course not.’

They stared at each other a while longer, the both of them just enjoying looking at the other. It was a habit of theirs that led to much mockery whenever they did it with the kids around.

‘Goldie?’ Scrooge asked, eventually.

‘Yes Scrooge?’

‘Are ye planning on getting us out of here at any point?’

Goldie laughed, and stepped back through the doorway.

‘Honestly it wasn’t my first thought. You and me, a hole in the ground, all alone...’

Scrooge felt his arousal stirring despite his predicament and he forced himself to stay calm.

‘Goldie, the _kids_. I have to get out of here - they’re out there on their own.’

Goldie rolled her eyes. ‘Oh fine, if you insist. Well I can get you out of here, but there’s just one catch.’

‘Only one?’ Scrooge raised a doubtful eyebrow.

‘You know what dimension hopping does to you. And I’m afraid I’ve only got one inter dimensional dampener with me.’

‘And you don’t fancy lending it to me, do you?’

‘Oh I would, Scroogey, but I already have a hangover and I really can’t face this headache getting any worse.’

Scrooge signed, resigned. ‘Which means...’

‘Which means - this is gonna hurt, handsome.’ Goldie said with a grin, approaching him slyly. ‘But I’ll try and make it a little more pleasant for you, because I like you.’

Scrooge rolled his eyes and scoffed. ‘You love me.’ He corrected.

‘Alright I love you. Don’t go on about it.’

She grabbed him and pulled him close, and kissed him deeply as they tumbled through the doorway. His arms wrapped around her instinctively and when they tore through the fabric of the universe he barely felt it as she plundered his mouth. Then she pulled away and reality rushed in, and before he knew it, he was unconscious.

 

 

When he came to, he immediately wished he hadn’t. He was strapped haphazardly into a side car, Goldie beside him on the motorbike, and they were bombing down the road at an alarming rate.

Scrooge looked up at Goldie, who somehow looked even more beautiful at this angle, with her helmet perched atop her wild golden hair. She glanced down an him, her green eyes glittering.

‘Morning, Moneybags,’ she said.

He became lost in her eyes for just a moment, and then he remembered the kids and sat up straight again.

‘Where are we going?’ He demanded, scrambling to look back over his shoulder. He didn’t recognise the terrain. ‘Goldie we’ve got to go back - the kids...’

Goldie just shook her head. ‘Relax, who do you think called me? They’re fine, Dickie drove them home.’

Scrooge frowned. ‘Who?’

Goldie ignored him. She revved the engine and pressed down harder on the accelerator, and suddenly the world was flying past in a blur. It was all Scrooge could do to grip the sides of the sidecar to keep himself from flying out of it.

‘What aren’t you telling me?’ He yelled, over the howl of the world rushing by.

Goldie put her hand to her ear, over her helmet. ‘Sorry Sourdough, can’t hear you!’

They bickered away as they hurtled back toward Duckburg, and it was only when Scrooge finally spotted the familiar skyline in the distance that he realised something.

Mrs Beakley was out of town. It happened from time to time - she would occasionally get a call from S.H.U.S.H. and get temporarily pulled out of retirement, and when that happened he tended to take the kids on an elaborate adventure to distract them.

Donald had absconded from their latest excursion, in favour of catching up with his old college friends a few towns over in St Canard.

Launchpad had disappeared, as he tended to do sometimes, on a vengeance quest. He thought Scrooge didn’t notice these things, and Scrooge was perfectly happy to continue under that illusion.

Even Duckworth was away on a literal Spiritual Retreat.

There were no grown ups in the mansion.

 

When they pulled into the drive way, Scrooge gasped while Goldie just chuckled. All over the yard were obstacles; felled trees and broken furniture and splatters of paint. Something terrible had happened here. Beakley was going to murder him.

Scrooge turned to Goldie. ‘You left them on their own?’ He demanded, gesturing at the chaos just as paint balls flew over his head and spattered on the wall behind him.

Goldie rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘I told you, I left them with Dickie.’

‘Who is Dismal Downs is Dickie?’

‘You haven’t met her yet.’

In the distance, they heard a wild war cry and watched as Dewey and Webby leapt from the bushes, accompanied by an older girl he didn’t recognise, and tackled the other boys to the ground. Paint exploded everywhere.

‘So you left my kids in the care of a stranger!’ Scrooge seethed, watching as the kids laughed and tumbled around together.

‘No, I left your grandnephews in the care of your granddaughter.’

Scrooge’s heart stopped beating. He had to physically will it to start again.

‘My _what_?!’

Goldie grinned somewhat sheepishly. ‘I have been meaning to tell you.’

‘You mean you... we... _when_?’ Scrooge spluttered, utterly perplexed. His old sense of O’Gilt betrayal was creeping back and it had been a long while since he’d felt it. He didn’t like it, but he was more familiar with it than he was with trusting her.

‘That part’s a little bit complicated.’ Goldie admitted, giving a little half wave as the kids spotted her and Scrooge.

‘Is it? It seems pretty simple to me!’ The disappointment in his voice was palpable, and Goldie immediately bristled, spoiling for a fight.

‘Oh really?’ She asked, dangerously.

The kids interrupted them then, whooping and racing over, covered head to toe in brightly coloured paint but otherwise unharmed and in one piece.

‘Uncle Scrooge, you’re okay! We were so worried!’ Webby launched herself at him, smearing pink all over his coat. Scrooge winced, but hugged her back.

The boys brought up the rear. Covered in multicoloured paint as they were, Goldie had absolutely no clue which triplet was which.

‘Hey again, _Aunt_ _Goldie_.’ Ah, that one was Louie. She glared at him.

‘Thanks for picking up Uncle Scrooge Goldie.’ Another one. Possibly Huey? Wait what was the third one called? ‘We owe you one!’

‘No problem kids.’ Goldie shrugged. ‘Not the first time your old Uncle needed my help to get him out of a sticky situation.’

She glanced at Scrooge, expecting a rebuke, but he wasn’t looking at her or the boys. He was staring at the girl standing behind them, with war paint still on her face and leaves and twigs sticking out of her wild blond hair. Her freckled face was entirely familiar, but at the same time he knew he’d never seen it before.

Goldie stood back and watched, cautiously. A strange nervousness settled in her stomach and she felt her mouth go dry. The kids stood between them all, thoroughly confused.

The girl just grinned awkwardly, her bright eyes glittering like her grandmother’s did when she was up to something. She gave a little wave.

‘Hey there, Grandpa Scrooge.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to @koizumi-marichan for the glorious vision of my girl Goldie on a motorcycle which I shamelessly referenced in this, because I love that art so damn much. 
> 
> http://koizumi-marichan.tumblr.com/post/169670319268/last-one-out-of-duckburg-oh-my-xd
> 
> Chapter illustrations by @neopuff!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I’m playing with the timeline for dramatic emphasis.
> 
> Also there are Doctor Who references because why not ;)

When Goldie O’Gilt returned from the Yukon, a whole boat load of liquid gold richer, she went straight to bed and didn’t get up again for a week.

She’d forgotten how exhausting it was staying one step ahead of Scrooge McDuck, and pushing his buttons at the same time. God, how she’d missed it. But she hadn’t missed the aftermath.

Eventually, she dragged herself to the shower and stood beneath the cleansing flow of the water for a good long time. As she washed the grime of their adventure out of her feathers, her thoughts drifted to him again and again, until she had to turn the faucet to cold just to focus long enough to get the job done.

‘Stupid old Sourdough,’ she grumbled, pushing his adorable grumpy face out of her mind. After all that effort, sure she’d gotten the gold and gotten a few back stabs in, but there was one element of their usual adventure format that had been rudely interrupted by Glomgold and his overall ineptitude and as a result, Goldie had returned home seriously unsatisfied and frankly more than a little frustrated.

She stepped out of the shower a while later, humming a tune to herself absently as she towelled off her hair and rummaged around in her dresser for something to wear. After a moment she realised she was humming the tune of that infernal tango that had played at the museum and she promptly stopped.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she said to herself, snapping her bra fastening closed and pulling on a shirt. ‘What am I? Thirteen? Get it together O’Gilt and quit mooning over that miser.’

She pulled herself together and headed out into the hotel, set on tackling the issue of the boat full of gold, floating outside in the mariner. She spent the day splitting it up into manageable shipments, sending some to be set into bullion bars and overseeing the rest replacing the water in her biggest, most impressive fountain in the main reception. Another addition to the Blackjack Hotel chain’s already impressive portfolio - and no one would ever suspect it was actually real gold.

By the time she finally headed back up to her penthouse, swiping a bottle of wine from the bar on her way past, she was ready for bed all over again.

As she sat on the couch, sipping at her wine and leafing through the manifests of several ships due to cross her path in the coming weeks, she cursed the name McDuck as her thoughts drifted back to the warm feeling of his hand resting on the small of her back as they danced.

‘Okay, that’s it.’ She sprung up from the couch and set down her wine, heading to her bedroom and the well worn trunk at the door of her bed that contained her favourite adventuring artefacts. She dug through the trunk, discarding grappling hooks and motorcycle helmets, and pistols and pickaxes, until at last, she found it.

It was rusted and a little rough around the edges, but a vortex manipulator was a vortex manipulator, at the end of the day. It might sting a bit, but it would still send her back in time.

Goldie wasn’t usually one for time travel. She’d won the thing in a bet, and used it once to get out of a particularly sticky situation, but she knew the perils of messing with time and she wasn’t stupid. She liked the world as it was, and she didn’t want to risk messing it up.

That said, she knew that Scrooge did tend to dabble in it. A particularly prevalent memory came to mind, of one very good Christmas, when she’d stepped into a party to find not one but two versions of her favourite grumpy billionaire and proceeded to have a very interesting evening indeed.

Nothing disastrous had come from that little tryst in time. She reasoned a quick jaunt would be harmless. Find a younger, less complicated version of Scrooge, scratch this infernal itch, and pop back to the present with pleasant memories and present day Scrooge none the wiser.

Goldie swiftly packed a bag and headed back toward Duckburg, the device strapped firmly onto her wrist. She’d get this out of her system and then find a nice big con to get stuck into, with a decent payload and plenty of distractions.

When she reached the edge of town, she started to twist the dial, musing on when might be the best time to pop in. The nineties were out, those kids of his were a pair of menaces. She’d hardly seen him in the eighties, and she figured it should probably stay that way. She was pretty present in the sixties and seventies, and he was a little looser then - before family and responsibility settled in. It was a safe bet and a good place to start.

So without further ado, Goldie turned the dial and thumped it hard, and disappeared into the past.

And just as she did so, in that exact same moment, a great swirling vortex of shadows appeared in the sky over Duckburg.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a long one... and there’s PLOT! You’ve been warned.

Goldie hated travelling through time. It made her light headed and nauseated, and she hated the lack of control over her own body and mind. This time seemed even worse somehow, it felt like her insides were determined to remain behind while the rest of her was propelled through time and space, all in the name of a belated booty call.

She landed heavily back on solid ground, and promptly doubled over and threw up. As the minutes passed, her mind pieced itself back together and she risked opening her eyes.

‘Ugh,’ she groaned, as the sunlight assaulted her eyes. She blinked at the horizon, then frowned. Something was wrong.

She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but she knew things were not as they should be. The sky seemed too dark for the time of day, the city too quiet, and in the distance the Money Bin... it looked neglected somehow. Moss and ivy crawled up its sides, obscuring the dollar sign on its face. She’d never seen it look like that before.

Goldie took out her phone instinctively, and then remembered she was in a time before cell service.

There was nothing to it. She’d just have to walk into town and see for herself. As she went, the sense that something was wrong intensified. The trees that lined her path were skeletal, their crisp green leaves long gone. They looked as though they hadn’t seen daylight in a very long time. There was something off about the ground too - with every step she glanced about herself, unsure what it was she was expecting to see but knowing somehow that whatever it was wasn’t there.

As she approached the city, things got weirder still. The streets of Duckburg were deserted. Stores were abandoned, restaurant windows boarded up, it was like there had been some kind of apocalypse. But there hadn’t been. If this was the past, then this couldn’t have happened. Because if it had, her present wouldn’t exist.

She reached the center of down, and finally she could see McDuck Manor up on the hill. Above her head, the dark clouds shifted and a few shafts of daylight broke through, and what she saw stopped Goldie in her tracks.

‘No...’ she whispered, unable to quite comprehend the blackened and dilapidated ruin that was once the jewel in the crown of Duckburg. The mansion was a shell, charred and crumbling, and as the sunlight finally crept to where she was standing she realised what it was she was missing. Goldie looked down at her feet, waving her arms a little to test her theory, and found herself proven horribly correct. She didn’t have a shadow. Nothing around her had a shadow. Only the sky. And the sky had noticed her.

Above her head, black clouds swirled and she realised now that they weren’t clouds at all, but shadows. As one, the sky itself seemed to shift, descending upon her. Goldie gasped and stepped back, looking around herself for any kind of escape. But when the enemy is all around you, what else can you do but run? So that’s what she did.

She turned on her heel and sprinted into an alley, her meticulous knowledge of Duckburg‘s side streets coming into play. She took every shortcut she knew, keeping under cover as best she could and ducking under awnings and into doorways so as not to be spotted. Smaller, duck sized shadows started to appear, lurking around every corner she turned. It was an ambush and she was unprepared.

Goldie kicked and punched and slashed at the shadows with everything she had, taking them out as she went and running faster, but however many she took down, more seemed to rise up in their place. They just wouldn’t stop coming, and she was beginning to tire.

She turned one more corner and swore under her breath when she realised she’d taken a wrong turn and this was a dead end. She tried to back out but her way was blocked, a wall of shadows loomed, eyes glowing in the darkness, and Goldie steeled herself for an impossible fight.

‘What are you doing?’ An incredulous voice hissed from somewhere above her head. ‘Get out of there, they’re going to get you!’

‘Yes, thank you, I figured that part all my myself!’ Goldie spat back, searching the darkness above for a trace of the source. ‘A little help?’

Suddenly, a great piece of curved glass swung down over her head and she had to duck out of the way to avoid it. A split second later and light flooded the alley, bouncing off the mirror and sending the shadows scattering, hissing and spitting wildly.

‘Come on, quickly!’ The voice yelled again, dropping a rope down which Goldie wasted no time in climbing up. ‘You’ve only got a couple of seconds until they come back!’

Goldie climbed and climbed, her muscles burning and sweat running down her face, until at last she felt her fingers brush the edge of a rooftop and she used her last remaining strength to heave herself up over the edge, collapsing on her back and staring up at the sky, gasping for breath. All around her was the same kind of dazzling light that had cleared the shadows in the alley below. It hurt her eyes, but she reasoned it could have been significantly worse.

‘Oh my god...’ the voice was closer now, right beside her. Goldie took a few more deep breaths and then pushed herself up onto her elbows, searching around in the brightness for her rescuer.

She blinked at the sight of a scrawny young girl, with a mop of wild blonde hair and freckles on her face. Her eyes were wide and her beak gaped open.

‘Oh my god,’ the girl said again, stepping back and staring at Goldie as though she’d seen a ghost. ‘ _GRANNY_?’

Goldie’s heart skipped several beats. Her mouth went dry. The bottom dropped out of her stomach and for a moment she thought she was going to throw up, again.

‘ _Excuse_ _me_?’

And then she passed out.

 

 

Goldie’s head pounded as she drifted back into consciousness. The voices around her echoed right throw her aching skull and her brow furrowed.

‘I think she’s waking up!’ The girl’s voice, it was far too enthusiastic and excitable for her liking.

‘Give her some space, let her breathe. You’re crowding her already.’ Another voice - male and vaguely familiar.

‘I’m allowed to crowd her, Gyro. She’s my grandmother.’ That brought Goldie back to the land of the living with a bump.

‘No I’m not,’ Goldie said firmly, through gritted teeth. She sat up and pushed the girl off her, ignoring the look of hurt that flashed in her eyes as she did so.

When she finally looked around, she realised the male voice she’d heard was from non other than Scrooge’s mad scientist, Gyro Gearloose. The combination was so unlikely, she didn’t even know where to start.

‘Mrs McDuck, clearly you’ve had quite a shock,’ Gyro started, his hands up in a placating gesture.

Goldie’s jaw dropped. ‘ _MRS_ _MCDUCK_?’

‘She’s had a shock? What about me? She’s supposed to be dead!’ The girl declared indignantly.

‘Wait - what?’ Goldie frowned. _Dead?_

‘How did you survive?’ The girl fell to her knees and clutched at Goldie’s hand. She tried her best to shake her off but the girl’s grip was iron. ‘Where have you _been_ , Gigi? Why didn’t you come and find us? We needed you. _I_ needed you.’

‘Alright, time out kid.’ Goldie snapped, finally getting her hand free. ‘Look, you saved my tail out there and I’m grateful. Really, I am. But honestly you’ve gotten me confused with someone else. I am not your grandmother. I’ve never laid an egg in my life and I think I’d remember if I had.’

The two looked at each other quickly, then back at Goldie. She didn’t miss Gyro’s fingers fluttering in the vicinity of a laser gun tucked into his belt.

‘Could it be amnesia?’ The girl wondered aloud, staring at Goldie like she was trying to see into her brain through her eyeballs.

‘Maybe.’ His forehead furrowed in thought. ‘But how does she look so young?’

‘Time travel?’ The girl shrugged.

‘Could be. Do you think maybe she’s from the past, before you and your mother were born?’

The girl wrinkled her beak. ‘She’s young but she’s not _that_ young. Look at her, she’s still a bit crinkly round the edges, you know?’

Goldie rolled her eyes. ‘Alright, could you maybe stop talking about me as though I’m not sitting right here? Look kid, I don’t know who you are, but -’

‘I’m Dickie.’ The girl supplied, quickly. ‘Dickie Duck. Well, _Mc_ Duck really. I don’t suppose it matters anymore.’

‘McDuck?’

‘Yes. And you’re Goldie McDuck. Or have you forgotten that too?’

Goldie felt her face flush. She was suddenly right at the end of her tether with this whole situation.

‘I’ve not forgotten anything.’ She said firmly. ‘I’m Goldie _O’Gilt_ , and I’ve never been anyone else.’

Dickie looked at her, stricken, and Goldie couldn’t explain the clench in her chest at the sight. Gyro shifted behind them awkwardly, and then the world grew dark again. Gyro and Dickie gasped, and Gyro grabbed his laser, pointing it at the sky.

The shadows had found them.

Dickie hurried Goldie to her feet and the three of them made a break for it, heading to the fire escape to slide back down into the alley way and off into the city side streets.

‘What the hell are those things?’ Goldie asked, clutching her chest as she caught her breath. She really wasn’t as young as she used to be.

‘The shadows? You really don’t know?’ Dickie looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

Goldie rolled her eyes, irritably. ‘I wouldn’t be asking if I did.’

‘Magica? The shadow war? None of this ringing a bell?’

‘Kid I swear to god if you don’t give me a straight answer soon I’m going to lose my temper.’

‘Magica de Spell, a powerful sorceress, unleashed the shadows over a decade ago.’ Gyro explained, stepping in before this family feud escalated beyond measure. ‘She took over the city of Duckburg and took control of everyone’s shadows, but then the shadows became even more powerful than her and she too was overcome.’

‘So all this isn’t even Magica?’ Goldie frowned. She remembered Magica de Spell. She’d seen Scrooge not long after he’d fought her on Vesuvius, he was fired up and filled with adrenaline and she knew how close he had come to defeat that day. It had shaken him more than he’d ever have admitted.

‘It’s Magica’s shadow,’ Gyro continued. ‘At the heart of it all - at least that’s what we think. We haven’t gotten close for a long time.’

Goldie’s eyes flicked to the device on her wrist, itching to use it to get herself swiftly out of this situation but at the same time knowing the risk that she could end up somewhere far worse. Clearly there was something wrong with the thing if it had sent her into this madcap shadow universe instead of back in time for a perfectly peril free romp.

‘What is that?’ Gyro asked, seeing how she lingered on the device.

‘It’s a vortex manipulator. And it’s completely useless. It’s how I ended up here - honestly I was only planning on a quick jaunt to the past to... well, anyway. I didn’t end up where I planned to - something went awry.’

‘Did you come here from the past?’ Dickie asked, frowning.

‘Goldie shook her head. ‘The future. I think. Or rather _a_ future. I think somehow I’ve wound up in some kind of alternate reality.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Oh I don’t know; the shadow monsters, the strange girl I’ve never met in my life claiming to be my granddaughter, the insistence that I completely lost my mind at some point in the last hundred years and married Scrooge McDuck - these are all pretty solid hints that we’re in an impossible universe right now.’

‘So you remember Grandpa Scrooge, then?’ Dickie piped up, her voice shaking almost imperceptibly. ‘Just not me.’

Goldie sighed. How she hated dealing with children and their quivering bills.

‘I know Scrooge, kid. But I’m not married to him. Where I’m from Scrooge and me... well, you and whatever family you come from, you just don’t exist okay?’ Goldie felt like she’d just punched herself in the gut when the girl’s eyes filled with tears at her words. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added. But it was all she could say.

Dickie turned away, and Gyro looked extremely uncomfortable. The shadows all around them were looming ever larger. Gyro, apparently pleased for the distraction, snapped into action.

‘We have to get out of here - give me that thing.’ He said, reaching for the vortex manipulator on Goldie’s wrist.

‘What? No! You’ll get me even more lost than I already am!’

‘If those shadows catch us, they’ll get you even more _dead_ than you already are, so if I were you I’d take the risk and give the inter dimensional time travel device to the certified genius.’

‘Certifiable nut job more like.’ Goldie grumbled, but since she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, she handed it over. ‘Be _careful_.’

He handed Goldie the laser in exchange and she turned the thing over in her hand testing the weight.

‘What’s this?’

‘Shadow Control Ray,’ Gyro supplied absently, while fiddling with the vortex manipulator. ‘It’s a prototype, but it works well enough in small doses. Aim for the center of the shadow to disperse it for a time - it works just like the mirror did in the alley.’

Goldie didn’t need any more encouragement and began deftly firing right at the hearts of the shadow creatures swarming around them. Dickie watched on with a strange look on her face as Goldie wasted no time utterly obliterating the hoard in seconds, until there was nothing left around them but wisps of cloud like smoke.

‘There, that should do it,’ Gyro said, snapping the casing closed and twisting the dial. ‘Come on, quickly. No time to lose.’

‘What have you done?’ Goldie asked, grabbing onto the strap just as Dickie and Gyro had without hesitation.

‘I’ve adjusted the dimensional circuitry to prioritise displacement in space over time. We have to get out of the city, there are too many of them here.’

‘Alright, but where are we going to go?’

Gyro didn’t answer and instead just slammed his fist on the casing as hard as he could, sending them ricocheting into the vortex without a moment’s hesitation. Goldie felt her stomach churn and closed her eyes tightly, and then seconds later she stumbled to her knees and her hands sunk into overgrown grass.

Beside her, she heard Dickie gasp. When she opened her eyes, she saw why.

They had landed right in the yard of the blackened husk that had once been McDuck Manor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to @moon_opals - it’s her head canon (trash grandma au) that Dickie calls Goldie Gigi instead of Granny/Grandma and she’s kindly let me use it in this story too!
> 
> Chapter illustrations by @neopuff!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I break the ‘show don’t tell’ rule for about 2000 words.

‘Really Gyro?’ Dickie demanded, waving her arms wildly in the direction of her former home.

Gyro looked simultaneously apologetic and irritated. ‘It was the only place I could think of under extreme pressure. Excuse me for prioritising survival over sentiment!’

‘You’re unbelievable, _Screwloose_.’ Dickie glared daggers and then stormed off into the ruins of McDuck Manor. Gyro’s shoulders slumped, and then he noticed Goldie was fighting laughter.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Sorry. It’s just... Screwloose. It tickled me.’

‘Laughing at your own joke. She got that from _you_ , you know.’ Gyro grumbled. Goldie promptly stopped laughing.

She watched for a while as the scientist tampered with her vortex manipulator, making sure he didn’t take it apart too much - she needed to make sure it went back together again so she could have a hope in hell of getting home.

‘Hmm...’ Gyro said, holding a piece of the core up to his eye and peering at it closely.

‘What?’ Goldie asked, as he tapped a switch on the side of his glasses, switching the lenses various times until he settled on a combo of blue and red.

‘Aha!’

‘What?’ Goldie said again, trying to take the thing back but Gyro snatched it away and turned his tinted gaze to her.

‘I knew it - you _did_ come from another dimension. You’ve crossed the void!’

‘The what now?’

‘The void is the space between realities, its the same stuff that shadows are made of. This - what did you call it? Vortex manipulator? It’s full of shadow particles. That’s what’s fried the core. You must have activated it just at the moment that shadows crossed into your version of Duckburg.’

‘You don’t think I would have noticed a great swirling shadow vortex in my world?’

‘Not if the moment you activated the device exactly coincided with the moment the shadows crossed over. What about Magica? Does she exist in your world?’

Goldie shrugged. ‘She did. But Scrooge defeated her years ago. I don’t know what happened to her.’

‘Right - because you’re from the future. None of this has happened in your world. But it still could.’

‘It won’t.’ Goldie insisted, strangely certain. Whatever weakness had overcome Scrooge in this world, she knew her Scrooge would never fall victim to Magica de Spell. He was stronger than that.

‘Can you fix it?’ She asked, steering the subject back to the matter at hand.

Gyro nodded. ‘I can, but not here. I need my equipment... which is all in my lab.’

‘Alright then, let’s go.’

‘If it was that simple don’t you think I’d have transported us there already?’ Gyro grumped, rolling his eyes. ‘My lab is underneath the Money Bin, and the Money Bin is entirely overrun by shadows.’

‘Well, then we need to find a way in without being seen.’

Gyro laughed, only mildly maniacally. ‘I don’t know why we didn’t think of that already. Oh, that’s right - _we_ _did_. What do you think we’ve been doing all this time, playing checkers? Dickie and I have been trying to break back into the Money Bin for years.’

‘To get to your lab?’

‘No... to get to Scrooge.’ Gyro said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Scrooge?’ Goldie repeated dumbly. ‘I thought Dickie said he was dead?’

Gyro rolled his eyes again. ‘No, you’re dead. Everyone else is dead. Scrooge is... trapped.’

‘Trapped how?’ Goldie frowned.

Gyro looked uncomfortable. This conversation had been going on far too long and he was not the best person to communicate delicate topics with any level of sensitivity.

‘Maybe you should talk to Dickie.’ He suggested at last. Goldie sighed.

‘Alright fine. I will. And give me that back.’ She held out her hand for the vortex manipulator. ‘New rule - you’re only allowed to fiddle with this thing when I can see you.’

 

 

Goldie trudged through the dilapidated mansion, searching for the teenager who looked so much like her - her and Scrooge. She remembered the layout quite well, she’d been there only a couple of weeks ago after all, but it all looked different covered in soot and decay.

She found her way to the main hallway, and remembered there was a living room off to the right. There wasn’t much of a door, or even any walls left any more, but in front of what had once been a grand stone fireplace was the charred remains of an exceptionally sturdy armchair.

At the foot of the chair, curled up in a compact little ball, was Dickie. Goldie paused at the sight of her, she’d been ready to read out the riot act but when she saw how the girl’s shoulders shook as she tried her best to keep quiet, the words stuck in her throat.

Goldie approached cautiously, sliding down the blackened wall beside Dickie and tucking her feet under herself. She twiddled her thumbs for a moment, waiting for the girl to say something. She didn’t. In the end, Goldie sucked it up and dived straight in.

‘So. Granny, huh?’ She asked, her tone forcibly casual.

Dickie frowned, finally looking up. ‘What?’

‘Is that what you called her? Or was she more of a Grandma? Grandma Goldie?’ Goldie pulled a face even as she spoke, those words did not sit well together.

Dickie smiled sadly and shook her head. ‘No... I hardly ever called you Granny. Her, I mean. Or Grandma. You - _she_ always got so mad if I did. Said I made her sound a hundred years old.’

Goldie snorted. ‘Well, she was right.’

‘Yeah, but she also _was_ a hundred years old.’ Dickie pointed out with just a hint of a grin.

‘I bet she didn’t look it.’ Goldie reasoned.

‘No, she didn’t. Anyway, she didn’t like it so I always just called her Gigi.’

‘Gigi?’ Goldie repeated, trying out the word. She didn’t hate it as much as she thought she would.

‘It was my first word. She was real proud of that fact. Told everyone her name was my first word and so Gigi she became.’

‘Gigi... yeah, I guess I could live with that.’ Goldie mused, thoughtfully. ‘What did you call Scrooge?’

Dickie looked down at her hands, her fingers fiddling absently with the edge of her sweater. She didn’t look up, but Goldie could tell from the tone of her voice that if she did, her eyes would be filled with tears again.

‘I call him Grandpa,’ she said, firmly. Present tensenoticeably intact. ‘He’s always liked being Grandpa.’

‘Dickie...’ Goldie started, the name feeling weirdly at home on her tongue. The girl looked up at her with wide, sparkling eyes. Goldie swallowed heavily before continuing. ‘What happened to your Grandpa?’

Dickie looked back down at her hands again, and was quiet for quite a while. Goldie was beginning to think she was going to ignore the question all together, until the girl took a deep, shuddering breath and began.

‘Magica was obsessed with getting hold of his old dime. She always was - I think it was always more annoying to him than being a real threat. But she got more and more powerful, and more and more determined, and when she attacked she wasn’t playing any more. Grandpa fought her, but she just got worse. And then one day she made the shadows.’

Dickie shuddered, and Goldie frowned at her own reflexes as her fingers itched to reach out and comfort the girl.

‘Duckburg was a mess. The shadows were everywhere. And then... then people started dying.’

‘Who?’

‘You and mom.’ Dickie said, her voice strangely hollow. Goldie felt her heart skip a beat. Dickie sniffed and carried on. ‘Then Fethry, Gladstone, Duckworth... I went to live with Aunt Hortense and Uncle Quackmore, and things got better for a while but then the shadows got them too. And then Donald and Della... it wasn’t long before everyone was gone.’

‘What about Beakley?’ Goldie asked suddenly.

Dickie looked puzzled. ‘Who?’

‘Beakley - you know, Agent 22? Big, strapping pain in the ass? Housekeeper?’

‘I don’t know who that is...’

Goldie nodded, considering. ‘Well, every cloud, I guess,’ she shrugged. ‘But where was Scrooge in all this?’

Dickie sighed. For someone so young and vibrant, she looked so very tired in that moment. Like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

‘When we lost you and mom... Grandpa fell apart. I don’t even think Magica meant for it to really happen... but it did. And then she lost control and the shadows overpowered her too. All they cared about was that damn dime, that worthless piece of junk, and they didn’t care who they had to go through to get it. They came for Grandpa and he didn’t fight them.’

Goldie didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. It just didn’t compute in her head, a Scrooge who didn’t fight back. But then she remembered the Scrooge who had come to her door the night he’d lost his niece, Della, to a cosmic storm of his own making and suddenly she saw all to clearly how vulnerable he had been then, how breakable he had been. She knew the two of them had always been... complicated... but the thought that losing her, losing their little family, had been enough to break him like that was quite the cross to bear.

She shook the thoughts from her head and settled instead on a curiosity that had been on the tip of her tongue since it had been mentioned.

‘What was her name? Your mom?’

Dickie’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline for a moment in surprise. ‘Dawson.’ She replied, eventually. ‘Dawson McDuck.’

‘Huh.’ Goldie said. Then she scoffed. ‘Scrooge always was a sentimental fool.’

‘Actually, I’m pretty sure you came up with the name.’

‘Damn.’ Goldie cursed. This kid really had her number, it was unsettling. ‘What was she like?’

‘She was... amazing.’ Dickie smiled properly at last at the memory of her mother. ‘She was fierce and funny, and so independent - you two used to fight all the time. She had Grandpa wrapped around her little finger from day one, you always said. You drove each other crazy but you loved each other.’

Goldie swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. It was stupid - this child had never existed, not really. She was a daughter born to two different parents, lived a whole different life, she wasn’t Goldie’s to miss. But somehow, some part of her she hadn’t known existed, did.

‘How did she die, Dickie?’ Goldie asked eventually.

‘Magica’s shadow set fire to the mansion.’ Dickie said quietly. ‘I don’t actually think she knew we were in there, she was just after the dime.’

‘We?’

‘Me, and Della and Donald. We were playing hide and seek, it was so dumb.’ Dickie curled her hand into a fist and pounded the floor in frustration. ‘By the time we smelled the fire it was too late, we couldn’t get out. Mom ran inside to find us, but everything was falling down around us. She made us go up to the attic, I think she wanted us to climb out onto the roof but we just couldn’t do it. I was too small and Della and Donald wouldn’t let go of each other. You climbed up the trellis to get to us and you helped us kids get out. I got out, and Della and Donald too, and just when you and mom were about to follow the roof caved in... and that was the end of it.’

Goldie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d put her own life at risk to save someone else. She wasn’t sure she ever really had. I mean sure, she threw herself into a river of molten gold last week to save Scrooge, but she’d known she had the Eye of Demogorgon on. She knew she wasn’t really in danger. For a moment, she let herself wonder if she’d have done anything any differently if she had been.

It was a ridiculous thought.

‘What was _I_ like?’ She asked suddenly, changing the subject again.

‘Hmm?’

‘As a grandma, I mean. Honestly I’m having trouble picturing it. Did I always have a pocket full of tasteless boiled sweets? Did I gross you out at the dinner table by taking out my teeth between courses? Embarrass you at the school gate by leaving my hearing aids at home?’

‘What?’ Dickie chuckled a little, despite the situation.

‘I don’t know, I don’t remember my own grandmother. I don’t know anyone else’s. I don’t know what grandmothers are supposed to be like. For all I know, I had gotten old and boring by the time you came along.’

Dickie cocked her head, feigning thoughtfulness.

‘Well, one time you looked after me on your own for an afternoon when Grandpa was working in the office and you taught me how to abseil down the side of the Money Bin. I fell the last few feet and broke my wrist, and then you wrote rude words on the cast in Scrooge’s handwriting and mom got so mad she didn’t get me come back to the manor until I had the cast off six weeks later.’

‘Ah.’

‘Then another time when mom and Grandpa were away, I told you I didn’t want to go to school because school was dumb and so you took me to Peru for three days and we got back just before they did, and we never told them.’

‘Why Peru?’ Goldie asked. Dickie just shrugged.

‘Because I thought it was a funny word.’

‘Seems fair.’ Goldie nodded. ‘Did we at least get some treasure out of it?’

‘Oh yeah. We didn’t tell mom and Grandpa about that, either.’

Goldie chuckled. Their eyes met and she knew that Dickie had forgotten her reality, just for a moment. But just as the clouds in her eyes had cleared, the memories returned just as quickly and soon she was lost in her own head again. Goldie sighed.

‘Gyro said Scrooge is trapped,’ she said conversationally, as one might comment on the weather.

Dickie nodded. ‘Yeah. That’s what we think, anyway. We don’t know for sure. I just don’t think he’s gone - he can’t be, you know? He’s Scr-‘

‘ _Scrooge_ _McDuck_. Yes, I know.’ Goldie agreed, grimly. ‘Alright, so then where is he?’

‘The Money Bin.’ Dickie said, sounding absolutely certain. ‘Magica said she was going to trap him within the thing he loves most, and the only way out was through his greatest treasure.’

‘Isn’t that just two different ways of saying ‘number one dime’?’ Goldie asked, rolling her eyes.

‘Well exactly. But if he’s in the dime, how can the dime be the way out too? It just doesn’t make sense.’ Dickie threw up her hands. She’d been through all this before.

‘No, it doesn’t.’ Goldie agreed. ‘But then... nothing interesting ever does.’

Dickie looked at Goldie suspiciously, as though trying to figure out where her grandmother ended and this wild woman began. ‘Do you have a plan?’ She asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

Goldie shook her head. ‘No, not even the start of one. But I’m stuck here until we get Gyro to his lab to fix my vortex manipulator, and Scrooge is stuck in his dime apparently, and both of those things are in the Money Bin. So that’s where we’re gonna go.’

To her surprise, Goldie found herself suddenly winded as Dickie launched herself at her, hugging her tightly around the waist. Goldie froze, her arms hanging rather uselessly at her sides, but at least she didn’t push her off, she reasoned.

‘Don’t get attached, kid,’ she found herself saying instead. She would never admit that she was talking to herself as much as she was talking to Dickie. ‘I’m not your Gigi, remember? I’m just me.Just your regular glittering Goldie O’Gilt.’

‘I know,’ Dickie said quietly, and hugged her tighter. And this time, just for a moment, Goldie let herself hug her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay we’re getting into it now... 
> 
> I hope that wasn’t too rambling, got a lot of information to squeeze in here! 
> 
> Thank you thank you everyone who is still reading! You’re wonderful!
> 
> Chapter illustrations by @neopuff :)


	5. Chapter 5

It was late, and everyone was exhausted, so they decided to stay just one night in the mansion. It was easier said than done however, as Gyro wouldn’t let them stay in any rooms that weren’t at least ninety percent structurally intact. Which essentially meant he wasn’t happy with any option.

‘What about the Other Bin?’ Goldie suggested, when she had just about reached the end of her tether with Dickie and Gyro’s bickering. ‘That’s got to still be secure.’

Dickie frowned. ‘What other bin? There’s only one Money Bin.’

‘No, the Other Bin. The Money Bin is for the money. The Other Bin is for the... other. You know, all the things that are too dangerous to keep anywhere else. Mystical artefacts and sword horses, that sort of thing.’

Dickie was still staring at her blankly. Goldie rolled her eyes.

‘Seriously? You grew up in this house, you’re related to both me _and_ Scrooge, and you never found the Other Bin?’

Dickie’s face flushed. Goldie felt an annoying stab of shame, and shook it off as a mild irritation.

‘I didn’t live here. Me and mom lived in town... but I visited all the time. I had a room here and I used to stay at weekends... but no one ever told me about an... Other Bin.’

‘Hmm. Seems I did become somewhat boring after all.’ Goldie grumbled. ‘Well come on, it’s this way.’ And she led the way through the soot and ash to the place she knew the entrance to the Other Bin to be. Everything around it had burned, but Goldie knew the small slot in the wall had once sat behind a painting, opposite a statue that had now crumbled away.

She took out her lock pick kit - a necessity she never left home without - and set about coaxing the cogs and coils into submission. Before long, the lock gave a satisfying ‘click’ and suddenly the door to the Other Bin swung open. Goldie stepped back and gestured with a flourish, letting Dickie and Gyro step through in front of her.

Dickie’s jaw was on the floor.

‘This has been here the _whole_ _time_?’ She exclaimed. ‘They kept a whole secret _dungeon_ from me?’

‘I guess so. Scrooge has never exactly told me about it in my world either, if it makes you feel any better. And I’ve never told him I know about it. It works pretty well for all involved.’

‘Well, what else didn’t they tell me?’ Dickie wondered aloud. Goldie snorted.

‘I’m sure there’s plenty your grandparents kept from you. You were a kid! Grown ups always think they need to protect kids from the truth.’

‘You don’t seem to worry about it too much.’

Goldie shrugged. ‘That’s right, I don’t. But who knows, maybe if it was my own kid, it’d be different.’

Once again, Dickie’s face fell. Gyro glared daggers at Goldie. She sighed, even the socially inept scientist seemed to be handling this better than she was.

‘Let’s just... get some sleep, hmm?’ Goldie said, finally. Maybe a decent night’s sleep would somehow turn her into a better person and she could stop making the kid’s face crumple up like that.

‘Good idea,’ Gyro agreed, still glaring. ‘We can set out for the Money Bin at dawn, that’s when the shadows are less potent.’

Dickie said nothing and simply curled up in a corner with her back to Goldie, and Gyro tentatively placed himself between the two of them. It was a not so subtle signal to Goldie that she was not universally trusted. Well, she was used to that.

Suddenly not feeling in the least bit tired, Goldie went off on her own, wandering the corridors and checking behind doors for anything in the least bit interesting. Nothing was where she expected it to be. The numbers on the doors to the various vaults always corresponded with dates, and she supposed that if things had changed so much a hundred years ago, it wasn’t surprising that other seemingly significant events in the life of Scrooge McDuck had happened differently too - or maybe not happened at all.

She wondered, briefly, if they’d still had all of the adventures she remembered. Almost all of them ended with her betraying him and running off with most, if not all of the treasure. What had they done in this world? Planned their excursions over their morning coffee? Held hands while fighting off pirates and leaping from air ships? It was an almost laughable thought. They must have at least had separate bank accounts to split the treasure into - there was no way her frivolity and Scrooge’s penny pinching would have survived over a century of marriage with just the Money Bin between them.

Eventually, Goldie found a corner of one of the vaults, piled high with Persian rugs. It wasn’t a four poster, but it would do. She pushed all thoughts of Scrooge from her mind and fell into a fitful sleep.

 

Goldie woke several hours later, not feeling rested in any way whatsoever. She rolled over with a groan, her muscles protesting, and squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the penthouse window.

‘Wait - what?’ Goldie sat upright, glancing around herself quickly. She was in her bed, in her hotel, in her world. It was daylight outside, close to midday if she was any judge, and the sky was blue - not a shadow in sight.

‘Oh thank god,’ she breathed, laying back against the fluffy pillows. It was a dream. Just a dream. Just a messed up, completely impractical, improbable dream. She was back in her world - she’d never left it - she could still see her clothes from her recent adventure at White Agony in the laundry basket.

She took a few more minutes to relish the feeling of comfort, before dragging herself out of bed and finally preparing to return to the land of the living.

She showered quickly and styled her hair, and dressed in a casual but still smart combo of dark jeans and a cable knit sweater over a lilac shirt, and headed out into the hotel.

‘Hey there, Ms O’Gilt,’ her best concierge, Linda, greeted her when she descended into the foyer. ‘We were beginning to think you’d gone off again.’

‘So was I,’ Goldie muttered absently, her attention had been caught by the small television behind the desk. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Some sort of drama in Duckburg,’ Linda replied, with a conspiratorial roll of her eyes. There was always a drama going on in Duckburg.

Goldie ducked behind the desk to get a better look. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest when she saw the enormous swirling shadow vortex on the screen.

‘ _This_ _is_ _Roxanne_   _Featherly reporting - a swirling shadow vortex has appeared in the sky over Duckburg. We’ve received numerous calls from citizens of the city, reporting that their own shadows have turned against them. And the death toll is climbing...’_

‘Death toll?’ Goldie gasped. Linda nodded grimly.

‘They’ve been reporting on it all morning. Looks like the whole city is going under.’

‘But it can’t,’ Goldie said, almost to herself. ‘Where the hell is-‘

‘ _We’re hearing troubling reports that Scrooge McDuck, billionaire recluse and usually reluctant city saviour, was last seen battling the shadows that have since overtaken McDuck Manor. No one has seen him since. It looks like we’re on our own for this one, Duckburg.’_

‘No...’ Goldie whispered. Linda frowned beside her.

‘Are you alright, Ms O’Gilt?’

Goldie ignored her, and instead picked up the phone behind the desk, dialling the mansion first - but she got nothing but a dead line. She tried Scrooge’s cell next, which she would never admit that she knew by heart, but that too just rang and rang, until it too went dead.

‘I have to go,’ Goldie said, slamming the phone down. ‘Keep an eye on things while I’m gone, will you?’

‘I always do,’ Linda said. ‘But wait, do you need something? A car?’

‘Too slow. I’ll be faster on my own.’ And without further ado, Goldie swept out of the hotel and headed to the garage.

She arrived in Duckburg oddly quickly, but she paid it no mind. She headed straight for the hill, where to her horror she found the mansion a smouldering ruin, just like it had been in her dream.

‘Scrooge!’ She called, through the smoke and shadows. ‘Where are you?’

There was no answer, but as soon as she set foot inside the mansion, the shadows focussed upon her, the vortex gathering anew above her head.

‘Damnit,’ she cursed, glancing around for cover. She ducked out of sight and watched as the shadows grew ever larger, until eventually she saw them take the shape of Magica herself, cackling as she loomed over McDuck Manor.

Goldie’s blood ran cold when she spotted Scrooge at last, brandishing his cane at the shadow, like a completely useless sword. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she knew it was hopeless, whatever it was, though likely peppered with some impressive alliteration.

Just as the shadow reared back, poised to attack, Goldie realised she had Gyro’s shadow control ray in her hand. She fired without a second thought, sending Magica’s shadow screeching into the ether for a while, enough to buy some time.

Scrooge spun around, and his eyes grew wide when he saw it was her.

‘Goldie? What are you doing here?’ He demanded, disbelieving.

‘You really have to ask?’ Goldie shook her head. ‘You were about to get eaten by a shadow!’

‘I had everything under control.’ Scrooge sniffed.

‘Cut the crap, Moneybags,’ Goldie said. ‘And you’re welcome for saving your life.’

Scrooge’s gaze suddenly softened, and he reached for her hand. She took his hand in hers and for a moment their eyes met, and everything was okay. But then Scrooge noticed something and took a wary step back.

‘What?’ Goldie asked quickly.

Scrooge swallowed and pointed, grimly. ‘Goldie... you still have a shadow...’

Goldie’s own shadow suddenly swelled, growing three, five, ten times her size and bearing down upon them. Just as it was about to swallow her up, something collided hard with her side and sent her tumbling to the ground. When she looked up again, she just saw Scrooge, silhouetted between her and her own shadow, his arms thrown wide to protect her from it.

‘What are you doing?’ She demanded, scrambling to her feet.

‘You have to get out of here, Goldie. Take the bairn and run. I’ll hold them off.’

‘Take the what?’

It was then Goldie noticed the carriage at the other side of the hall, and the faint sounds of a baby’s cries reached her ears.

Dawson. Dawson McDuck.

Goldie grabbed Scrooge’s arm. ‘This isn’t right - something isn’t right. You and me, this isn’t how we work out.’

Scrooge took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, and after a moment of shock, she sank into his embrace and kissed him back. It seemed to last a lifetime, and be over in a second, all at once. When Scrooge pulled away, there were tears in his eyes. Goldie realised she was crying too.

‘This isn’t how it ends.’ She insisted, gripping his sleeves tightly when he started to push her away.

‘You have to go,’ Scrooge insisted.

Just then, the baby in the carriage - their baby, apparently - let out a high pitched scream that tore Goldie instinctively from Scrooge. When she looked back, it was too late. He stood firm as her shadow bore down upon him and swallowed him whole, turning the legendary Scrooge McDuck into nothingness while she looked on, entirely helpless.

‘Scrooge!’

She remember the baby a moment too late, when she turned to the carriage there were shadows gathered all around it, and even as she ran towards it, it seemed to move further and further away with her every step. She lunged and swiped at the air, but it was always out of reach. It wasn’t long until the shadows swallowed up their baby too.

‘No!’ Goldie cried, throwing herself into the darkness. The shadows swarmed around her and she felt herself fading, disappearing into nothing and really, perhaps it was easier this way. She couldn’t save Scrooge, she couldn’t save their child, perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it was what she deserved.

‘ _Gigi!’_

A voice cut through the dark, muffled and far away, but strangely clear. Goldie frowned and struggled, searching for the source.

‘Gigi - wake up. _Wake up!_ ’

Goldie woke with a start, her back and shoulders stiff from sleeping on the cold, slightly damn pile of rugs. She blinked, confused and disorientated, her eyes not quite able to focus on the face in front of her.

‘Scrooge?’ She uttered, and then cursed herself for it. Of course it wasn’t Scrooge. And why should it be? Why did she care? Her eyes had started to come back into focus, and the face she saw in front of her actually did look rather like Scrooge, but for a mop of golden hair. Her hair. God, she hated this place.

‘Gigi - it’s okay, you just got sucked into a dreamcatcher. Are you alright?’ Dickie held the offending item in her hands, blocking its hypnotic powers. Goldie frowned and shut her eyes tightly, as a headache pounded behind them.

‘A dreamcatcher?’ She grumbled. Of all the ridiculous things to fall victim to.

Dickie’s eyes softened. ‘Did you dream about Grandpa?’

Dickie laid a gentle hand on her arm, and Goldie shook it off like she’d been burned. She looked up into the girl’s face and once again saw disappointment and rejection and this time all it did was rile her up. She was Goldie O’Gilt, she wasn’t Gigi, she hadn’t married Scrooge and had his baby and this girl was not her granddaughter.

‘No, I didn’t,’ she lied. ‘Look kid, it’s not the same for me. I saw the old miser last week. I stabbed him in the back and made off with his gold. That’s what we do. That’s who we are, in my world. And that’s the way I like it.’

Dickie looked like she’d been slapped. But there was fire in her eyes when she spoke, disbelieving. ‘Do you really not love him?’

Goldie went to snap back a denial but the words caught in her throat. ‘I... it’s not... it’s more _complicated_ than that!’

‘No it isn’t. Either you love him or you don’t. And if you don’t, then that’s fine. You can just go. Nothing’s keeping you here, Gyro and I were doing just fine before you came along.’

‘We really weren’t.’ Gyro piped up from the doorway.

‘Shut up Gyro.’ Dickie snapped.

Goldie saw red, and pushed herself to her feet. ‘Believe me kid, if I could leave I would. But I need _him_ to fix the vortex manipulator.’ She pointed sharply at Gyro, who stepped back further into the hall, having no desire to get drawn into the explosive chemical reaction that tended to occur when McDuck and O’Gilt tempers combined.

‘Right then.’ Dickie said, throwing up her walls as only her O’Gilt side could. ‘Well if that’s the only reason you’re hanging around, let’s get on with it.’

‘What makes you think things will be any different this time?’ Goldie asked, expertly masking her own self doubt and turning it on Dickie. ‘You said you’d tried to get Scrooge out for years, what makes you think you have any more chance today than you did yesterday?’

Dickie glared at her, and despite the quiver in her bill and the years in her eyes, she stood firm.

‘I may not have much of a chance at all, but I’ve got to try. He’s all I’ve got left. And apparently I’m all he’s got too.’

And with that, Dickie swept from the room, tossing the dreamcatcher in a corner and dragging Gyro behind her.

Goldie sat for a while in the damp vault, lost in her own head. In just twenty four hours, her life had become a hundred times more complicated. She longed to turn back the clock, and return to her world, where she knew where she stood and she knew who she was. And family was not a part of that picture.

But the fiery face of a wild teenage girl kept creeping into her thoughts. And much as a not insignificant part of her wished she’d never come to this place, and longed for the blissful ignorance of the past, she was here now. And Dickie was real. When Goldie returned to her world, Dickie wouldn’t just blink out of existence and that made things... even more complicated.

Goldie sighed, and steeled herself for the adventure ahead.

It was time to find Scrooge.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so long it should be two chapters but I couldn’t find a place to cut it so... have two chapters in one.

They journeyed to the Bin in relative silence. Gyro, who was used to being the one to make a situation uncomfortable, couldn’t quite fathom this new equilibrium. But his attempts at mediating and making casual conversation obviously didn’t come off as casual at all, and Goldie quickly lost her patience and stomped off ahead while Dickie sulked behind.

‘Where are you going?’ Dickie hissed, when Goldie started to lead them away from the Bin. Goldie rolled her eyes and didn’t falter.

‘You want to walk up to the front door and get yourself eaten by shadows before the day’s even gotten started, be my guest,’ she said. ‘I’ve been breaking into this place since before you were born, kid. I know what I’m doing.’

Goldie led them down beneath the bridge that led to the Bin, down a twisting coastal path to a small holding of fishing boats that had long been abandoned. Goldie rolled up her sleeves and waded into the water, checking the boats until she found one that seemed water tight. She heaved herself up out of the water and into the boat, remarkably gracefully.

‘Humph.’ Dickie grumbled as she watched, trying hard not to be impressed. And she then realised that Gyro was watching _her_.

‘What?’ She snapped.

‘Nothing. What? Nothing.’ Gyro floundered, turning quickly back to Goldie, who was now fiddling with the dusty boat engine.

‘Gyro,’ Dickie said, her eyes narrowing. Gyro sighed.

‘You’re just being rather less pragmatic than you usually are, that’s all.’ He said, eventually.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘She has prior knowledge. She can help. But now you want to reject her because...’

‘Because what?’

‘Because she’s not your grandmother.’ Gyro said at last, throwing caution to the wind. Dickie crossed her arms and huffed, but she didn’t deny it. Gyro rolled his eyes. ‘That’s not her fault.’

‘I know,’ Dickie snapped, defensively. ‘You don’t have to lecture me about it.’

‘Dickie, you and I have been friends for a long time. Ever since I first came to work for your grandfather and he forced me to take you on as an unpaid intern.’

‘Unpaid intern?’ Dickie rolled her eyes. ‘Massively overqualified, cheap child labour, you mean.’

‘Yes, well. That was Mr McDuck,’ Gyro shrugged, sheepishly.

‘That _is_ Mr McDuck,’ Dickie corrected.

‘My point is, we’ve known each other a long time. And I think you trust me.’

‘Of course I do.’ Dickie mumbled, awkwardly.

‘Then believe me when I say, I can’t get us out of this.’ Gyro admitted, as much as it pained him to do so. Dickie glanced at him and she knew that he was being honest with her. He sighed and pointed at Goldie, who had just sat back with a satisfied grin as the boat’s engine guttered to life. ‘But maybe she can.’

Goldie glanced over her shoulder then and beckoned the pair of them, gesturing to the boat.

‘Well?’ She said, impatiently. ‘Come on, get in.’

Gyro and Dickie piled into the boat without further hesitation, and Goldie wasted no time in steering them along the coast and under the bridge, out of sight. As soon as they were hidden, she turned off the engine and took out her grappling gun, firing it at a distant girder and tugging until the cable went taut, so that she could pull the boat through the water in silence as she reeled the cable in.

Gyro glanced at Dickie, nodding at Goldie’s ingenuity. Dickie rolled her eyes and shrugged, reluctantly impressed.

‘Where are we going?’ Dickie asked eventually, frowning as they once again steered off course, the boat drifting toward the rocks at the foot of the bin. Overhead, shadows circled the roof of the bin like grim vultures.

‘To his lab,’ Goldie replied, jabbing Gyro in the ribs. ‘This is actually one of the easiest ways to break into the bin.’

‘It is not!’ Gyro insisted, indignantly. He very quickly ate his words when Goldie proceeded to lead them to a hidden tunnel that led straight to the basement, emerging in the corridor beside the lab doors, behind a portrait of Scrooge that Gyro and Dickie had never thought to look behind in all their years.

‘That... was surprisingly easy,’ Dickie admitted, as Goldie hacked into the security system and overrode the keypad with ease.

‘I’m right here,’ Gyro said. ‘You could have just asked me for the code.’

Goldie grinned. ‘It’s much more fun to break in though,’ she explained. ‘Now,’ she said, taking out the vortex manipulator and tossing it at him. ‘Fix that. And I’ll be out of your hair.’

Dickie turned her back on the pair of them and instead turned her attention to the selection of shadow control rays in varying stages of development, laying on the lab table just where they had left them before the shadows took over the Bin and driven them into hiding.

Meanwhile, Gyro was taking his time, and Goldie was getting impatient.

‘Just give me a second...’ Gyro worked furiously, while Goldie watched with a growing level of concern. When he eventually broke the casing open entirely and started fiddling with the vortex manipulator’s insides, she switched to full on panic. Before she could say anything, the whole thing juddered and whirred, and reality shifted a fraction.

‘What have you done?’ She demanded, grabbing the device from him and checking it over.

‘Reversed the polarity of the corrupted circuitry. This should target the shadows when it’s activated, instead of making _you_ the target.’

‘To what end?’

‘Well, if we can force Magica’s shadow back into her corporeal form, it’ll be easier to disperse. And if we get rid of Magica, we get rid of all of them.’

‘And then you’ll fix it again? So I can get home?’

‘I won’t need to. Once the shadows have gone, the shadow particles will stop interfering with the vortex and it should work just as it always did.’

Goldie cocked her head, one hand on her hip. She had to admit, she was impressed.

‘So I get to go home, but conveniently I have to help you solve your little shadow problem first in order to do that. You’re a sneaky little genius, aren’t you, Screwloose?’

Gyro glared, and was about to fire an insult right back at her when Dickie interrupted them.

‘They’re here,’ she hissed suddenly, spinning around and hurrying over to the light switch, flicking it and plunging the lab into darkness to shield them from the shadows that approached.

Goldie grabbed the vortex manipulator and a shadow control ray, the moment the lights went out.

‘Quick, this way,’ Gyro beckoned then over to a side door that led into the fire escape. ‘Hurry, before they spot us.’

They slipped out and up into the innards of the Money Bin, and Gyro led them up and up, higher and higher, until Goldie was beginning to think her legs might not make it another floor. Just when she was about to quit, a door below opened and there was a whooshing sound as the shadows rushed in, intent on hunting down the intruders.

‘In here!’ Dickie led the way up another couple of flights, and through a side door that Goldie quickly realised was connected to Scrooge’s office. Dickie hurried behind the desk, pulled a random book on a shelf and revealed a secret passage.

‘In here, quickly!’ She said, ducking through. Goldie and Gyro followed, and the door closed behind them with a click.

‘Where are we?’ Goldie frowned, looking around with a real interest.

‘Grandpa’s secret safe. You didn’t know about it?’

Goldie shook her head. ‘For once, no I didn’t. I gotta admit most of my time in the Money Bin has been focussed on the massive bin of gold.

‘I used to hide in here all the time,’ Dickie admitted, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater as she looked around. ‘Grandpa used to say the Money Bin was where he kept the gold, but this place was where he kept his real treasures...’

Even as she spoke, Goldie saw Dickie coming to a realisation. She sprang a good foot off the ground when her brain caught up with her mouth. Without further ado, Dickie hurried over to the actual safe at the back of the room, twisting the combination lock until it opened and heaving the door open.

‘Oh my god, look! This is it, this is what we needed to find! His greatest treasure!’ She snatched her prize from the vault and practically vibrated off the ground, she was so excited.

‘What are you talking about?’ Goldie asked, grabbing the bouncing girl by the arms to hold her steady so she could see what it was that she had found.

‘This!’ Dickie said, clutching the old lock box tightly. Goldie froze, her heart thumping heavily at the sight of it. It had been over a century since she’d seen that box. Dickie didn’t seem to notice that Goldie had recognised it, intent as she was on figuring out what was inside.

‘Wait...’ Dickie said, frowning. ‘But if the dime’s in the Bin, then what’s in here?’

‘What do you mean?’ Goldie asked, her tone calculatingly casual.

‘Grandpa always said that box was for his greatest treasure. I always figured that was the dime.’

‘But he wears the dime around his neck, under his shirt. He never takes it off.’ Goldie said, quickly.

Despite the situation, Dickie managed to fix her with a knowing side glance. ‘Under his shirt, huh? So you know that, do you?’

‘Don’t start. And give me that.’ Goldie snapped, taking the box from Dickie and plucking a pin from her hair.

‘So if the dime _isn’t_ his greatest treasure, what is?’ Dickie wondered aloud, as Goldie twiddled the little pieces of metal until the lock clicked open. Without hesitation she flipped open the lid of the box.

‘Oh... oh _god_.’

‘What is it?’ Dickie asked, clamouring for a closer look.

Goldie slammed the lid shut and turned away from Dickie. ‘Nothing. It’s not the dime.’

‘Gigi, please.’ Dickie begged. Goldie was beginning to realise she was biologically programmed not to be able to resist her when she did that. ‘What is it?’ Dickie asked again.

Goldie steeled herself and turned back around, clutching the lock box tightly. She reached inside and pulled out each treasure one at a time, and very carefully.

The deed to his claim at White Agony Creek... the place they met and, if she would admit it to herself, the place they fell in love. It was the place the first fell into bed, at any rate. Goldie wondered, not for the first time, what had turned out differently here. Which one of them had buckled? Which of them had swallowed their pride and faced off their fears, and set them on a different path? Perhaps she’d never know. Maybe she didn’t really want to.

Next came the biggest gold nugget Dickie had ever seen. Goldie felt a lump fill her throat when she felt the weight of it in her hand. It felt lighter than it once had. So insignificant now, though at the time it had been the most important thing.

She froze when she saw the last treasure. It couldn’t possibly be. Everything in her told her to snap the lid closed and run, run away, back to Duckburg, her Duckburg, then out of town and far far away, so far that Scrooge and his treasure couldn’t follow.

But then Dickie’s hand curled around her wrist, and she found herself staring into wide, imploring eyes.

Goldie sighed, and reached into the box once more. She pulled out a lock of golden hair, tied tightly with a red ribbon. Her hair. After all these years, after everything, he’d kept it. He called these his greatest treasures.

The sentimental old fool.

‘Are you okay?’ Dickie’s voice cut through her memories and Goldie dragged herself back to the present. She nodded, dismissively, then realised her cheeks were wet with silently shed tears.

‘Damnit,’ she hissed, wiping furiously at her face.

‘Gigi...’

‘ _Goldie_.’

‘Both of you - shut up for a second,’ Gyro interrupted. ‘Look.’

Goldie and Dickie followed his gaze to the door. They saw nothing, but then realised that was exactly the problem. The shadows filled the doorway, and the corridor beyond. They had been found. 

Goldie snapped the box closed and passed it back to Dickie, and then whipped out the shadow control ray she’d lifted from the lab and fired the prototype into the darkness. It wasn’t quite strong enough to destroy them, but it at least confused matters and gave them a moment to slip through the doorway and out into the Bin.

Quickly, the shadows reassembled themselves and gave chase. Dickie led them into the Bin itself, and Goldie cursed when she realised, because other than diving down into the gold, there was no escape. Dickie wasn’t thinking beyond getting the dime and getting Scrooge back. Goldie couldn’t exactly blame her, but someone had to be practical.

The shadow army forced them back along the diving platform and Goldie knew if she didn’t do something they would push the right off the edge, so she made that call for them. She grabbed Gyro’s hand, knowing he would instinctively grab Dickie’s, and dragged them all over the edge, shooting her grappling gun at the underside of the platform and swinging them down to relative safety.

Dickie started scrambling around in the gold as soon as they hit the ground, while Gyro stood behind her protectively.

‘The dime, the dime, where’s the dime?’ Dickie mumbled, checking every coin she handled to know avail.

Goldie sensed the danger was still lurking, and stepped behind a heap of treasure to regroup and get her bearings. The moment she did, she heard Dickie gasp. Unable to stop herself, Goldie peered around the corner, still out of sight, and watched as Dickie dived for the dime, only to have it slip through her fingers as the great, looming shadow of Magica de Spell rose up out of the mountain of gold, clutching the precious dime in her fingers and cackling wildly.

Gyro fired his control ray, but Magica’s shadow just brushed it off, like it was a mild irritation.

‘Ooh thanks, I’ve been looking for that,’ the shadow said, reaching toward Dickie with her huge hands, and plucking the lock box from her grasp.

‘No!’ Dickie cried, as the shadow grinned and immediately crushed the box in her hand, setting the remnants aflame for good measure. It dropped to the floor and Dickie snatched it up, despite the fact that it was still smouldering, desperate to find some trace of the treasure within still intact.

‘Silly little duck,’ the shadow taunted, in a voice that sounded like it had once belonged to Magica de Spell, but what was here now was even more twisted, even more desperately dark than Magica had ever been.

‘Give me back my Grandpa!’ Dickie cried, hurling the charred lock box at the spectre, but the shadow of Magica just laughed again as it passed right through her and shattered against the wall.

‘Your grandfather is gone, child,’ the shadow hissed. ‘Don’t you know anything about shadow magic? You’ve survived this long... I’d have thought you have at least picked up something.’

‘What have you done with him? Tell me!’

‘Me? Well, I just turned him into a shadow and trapped him inside the thing he loves the most. I’m not an unreasonable villain, you know. I did give him a way out... but you just keep messing that up too, don’t you? You practically handed his treasure box to me.’

Dickie’s shouldered slumped in defeat. Goldie just listened as Magica continued her monologue.

‘Scroogey’s greatest treasure, his precious _Star_ _of_ _the_ _North_. All the poor old fool had to remember her after you got her killed in that fire was an old lock of her hair.’

Goldie froze, her hand going to her own hair instinctively. It had come loose from her ponytail and now fell across her shoulders. From her hiding place, she noticed Gyro and they locked eyes briefly.

‘How would that have even helped?’ Gyro suddenly demanded, scoffing exaggeratedly. Dickie frowned at him and he shook his head, almost imperceptibly. ‘You said yourself, you made Scrooge a shadow. How could that lock of hair have saved him?’

‘You really aren’t all that smart, are you?’ Magica’s shadow sneered. ‘Call yourself a genius? You can’t be that clever if you only study science and completely discount magic. The only way to return a cursed shadow to its once corporeal form is by anchoring it to the physical world with a talisman. The only magic strong enough to save Scrooge McDuck was locked away in that box, all his memories of his precious Glittering Goldie. And you just threw your Grandpa’s last chance away.’

‘So you’re saying if we’d had a lock of Goldie O’Gilt’s hair, we could have saved him?’ Gyro clarified. Dickie grabbed his arm, as she finally caught up with what he was saying. Magica rolled her eyes dramatically.

‘Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying, you imbecilic cockerel!’

Just then, Goldie herself stepped out from behind a pile of treasure, holding her suped-up vortex manipulator out like a grenade, and she was poised to pull the pin.

‘Wherever will we find a lock of Goldie O’Gilt’s fabulous golden hair?’ She wondered, tossing her mane over her shoulders. ‘I just can’t think...’

Magica’s shadow roared at the sight of her, and reared up, growing so swollen with rage that it filled half the Money Bin.

‘WHAT? How? It’s not possible...’

Goldie grinned. ‘Surprise, witch.’

Gyro grabbed Dickie and dragged her back as Goldie slammed her hand down on the vortex manipulator and sent shockwaves through the Bin. Magica screeched and wailed as the waves tore her shadowy form apart, until she and her shadow army were nothing but wisps of smoke in the breeze. No longer able to keep a hold on the cursed dime, it fell through Magica’s fading fingers and tumbled down into the bin. With reflexes so fast Dickie and Gyro barely saw her move, Goldie snatched the dime from the air and clutched it close to her heart, her golden hair falling into her face as she did so and brushing against the cool metal as she held onto the dime.

There was a flash of light, and the world shifted, and there was Scrooge McDuck standing before her.

Goldie gasped as his knees buckled and he started to fall. She caught him before he did and sank down to the ground with him in her arms.

‘Scrooge,’ she said, shaking him as his eyelids fluttered closed. ‘Stay with me, you stupid old Sourdough.’

The old man rallied a little at the sound of her voice, his brow furrowing as his eyes blinked open again.

‘Goldie... how...’ his voice rasped, rough from lack of use.

‘That’s a weird and pretty complicated story,’ Goldie said, feeling her cheeks flush when his hand reached up to cup her cheek gently. He was cold, and not quite corporeal despite the spell being broken. He gazed deeply into her eyes and she tried to keep the contact but found she couldn’t. He was looking at her with such open affection that she felt ashamed, like she was betraying him by not being the Goldie he deserved. The one who he’d loved so much she was the only thing that could save him. The one who’d thrown herself into a burning building to save their family. The one who had loved him back and stayed by his side for over a hundred years.

‘You’re not my Goldie, are you?’ Scrooge asked quietly, after a moment.

Goldie felt her eyes burning, a lump filling her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She swallowed it back down, along with every insistence that she was his Goldie. She could have been. If only she wasn’t so damn pigheaded and proud and messed up. She could have had this. Now it was too late, for both of them.

‘No,’ she said eventually. ‘No I’m not.’

Scrooge’s fading eyes fixed on her for a moment, and his hands gripped the fabric of her shirt.

‘But you are Goldie,’ he murmured, tugging on her sleeve as though to anchor himself to her. ‘My beautiful golden angel...’

‘I’m Goldie,’ she agreed, firmly. ‘And you’re Scrooge. And that’s all that matters right now.’

‘And Dickie...’ Scrooge added, his eyes searching for her in the fading light. ‘Dickie made it out. You saved her. Where is she?’

‘Dickie’s here. She’s safe.’ Goldie assured him. And with a cursory glance over her shoulder to make sure the girl was out of ear shot she added; ‘She’s amazing.’

Scrooge nodded, a smile on his face despite the pain that so clearly crept through his entire fading body. Then his watery eyes clouded as he said; ‘Her mother was too.’

‘Dawson...’ Goldie tried the name on her tongue for the first time. It felt entirely right, and that sent a stab right into her heart. ‘I wish I could have met her.’

Scrooge’s smile turned to a frown as he processed her words. Eventually he found the strength to speak again.

‘Things are different for you,’ he said, eyeing her shrewdly.

Goldie nodded. ‘In my world, everything is different. In my world none of this happened. And your family is different too, but... well, what a family. You love them all so much. And they love you.’

‘Are you there too?’

Goldie smiled sadly, unable to lie to him but unwilling to tell the whole truth.

‘Sometimes,’ she said, evasively. ‘But the kids... well. Donald is there. And Della had three boys. They worship you. And there’s a little girl too, I think she’s Beakley’s somehow... They all call you Uncle though, and you take them on adventures every day.’

Scrooge nodded, and hummed in acknowledgement of she knew not what. The family, the love, the adventure. It was all a distant dream to this version of Scrooge, who had lost everything. She saw the reality start to set in from the crease in his brow and decided to change tact.

‘We did something pretty special here, didn’t we? You and me?’ Goldie said, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it.

‘You and me... a lifetime of adventure.’ Scrooge agreed, still staring up at her as though he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

‘And then we had kids.’ Goldie quipped, ignoring the tears that now flowed freely down her cheeks.

‘That was the greatest adventure of all,’ Scrooge reminisced. The words were tinged with bitterness.

Suddenly, the world around them started to shake. The Bin was losing integrity fast, and the shadows were not quite gone. Goldie looked up and a quick assessment of their situation told her she needed to act.

‘Scrooge, we have to get out of here.’ She said firmly, starting to try to drag him to his feet.

‘No.’

‘No?’ Goldie frowned in confusion.

‘You have to get Dickie out.’ Scrooge said, his voice sounding more certain with every word spoken.

‘And you!’

‘Goldie girl, it’s too late.’ He said, his grip on her hand growing stronger. ‘I don’t even have a real body any more. Once Magica’s spell wanes completely, I’ll be gone.’

Goldie shook her head, her golden hair falling into her eyes. ‘No, we saved you. We broke the curse. Your greatest treasure...’

‘I lost my greatest treasure years ago. Without you and Dawson...’ he trailed off, overcome for a moment. Dawson, their baby girl. The girl no version of her had been able to save.

‘You have Dickie,’ Goldie insisted. _And_ _me_ , she thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. _You_ _could_ _have_ _me_.

Scrooge didn’t say anything. But he didn’t have to. She might not be his Goldie, but she still knew Scrooge McDuck. And she knew what he wouldn’t say - she wasn’t enough to save him. She wasn’t his Goldie. She didn’t deserve to be.

‘You have to take Dickie with you.’ Scrooge said. ‘You have to give her a chance. There’s nothing left for her here.’

‘Scrooge... I can’t leave you here.’ Goldie insisted, holding him close to her. ‘I won’t.’

‘You won’t have to,’ Scrooge said, reaching up to lay a hand on the side of her face. Their eyes locked and Goldie couldn’t stop her tears from flowing.

‘You bastard,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t you dare.’

‘Grandpa?’

Dickie’s voice cut through their reunion and for a moment Goldie wanted the ground to swallow her up. Better to die then to deal with this. It was messy and complicated and so hard. Her heart _hurt_.

She looked up at Dickie, and then behind her, as the lingering traces of shadows began to gather.

‘Dickie, get out of the way,’ Goldie hissed, quickly. Dickie spun around as Magica’s shadow rose up with one final lurch of strength, and as it loomed above them, poised to swoop down and consume them all, Goldie felt the shade of Scrooge solidify momentarily in her arms, and she could only watch as he pushed himself to his feet and threw himself forward, cane in hand.

As the shadow dived, Goldie saw everything happen a moment ahead of time, in perfect slow motion.

Dickie ran to her grandfather, but Goldie caught her arm and held her back just in time. Scrooge raised his cane as Magica’s shadow spell hit, sending sparks showering all over the Money Bin and deflecting her attack. Weakened and unstable as she was from Goldie’s modified vortex manipulator pulse, she couldn’t move fast enough to escape the curse that fired back on her.

The shadow howled and hissed, as her own spell forced her to shrink down smaller and smaller, until she stood no taller than the old duck at her feet. Out of nowhere, Gyro appeared, and fired his shadow control ray right at the heart of the creature, sending her screeching into oblivion with one perfect shot.

‘We did it!’ Dickie cheered, as she and Goldie ran to Scrooge as one, taking a hand each as he stumbled, and sank to his knees.

Goldie knew something was wrong the moment she took his hand. And when they reached the ground, she gasped as her fingers slipped through his like he was made of nothing more than smoke.

‘No!’ Dickie cried, as the hand she clutched faded too. ‘No no no no no!’

‘You have to get out of here,’ his words seemed to come from far away, carrying to Goldie’s ears across worlds. She didn’t even know if Dickie could hear them.

_You have to get out of here, Goldie._

_Take the bairn and run._

She snatched her hand away and staggered back, watching as Dickie scrambled and swiped at the shade of Scrooge McDuck, in a vain attempt to keep him anchored to the corporeal world.

And then he was gone.

‘No!’ Dickie cried one more time, collapsing to the ground in despair. Goldie, her face still wet with tears, tried to lay a hand on her arm but the girl shook her off. ‘Get off of me!’

 _Take the bairn and run._  

‘Dickie, please,’ Goldie begged. ‘We have to go.’ Dickie just shook her head and curled in on herself, as though she could sink into the gold and disappear from the world.

Without Magica’s magic holding it together, the Money Bin was in serious trouble. The spells Scrooge had deflected had ricocheted off and sent sparks smouldering, which had kindled into raging fires all around them.

‘Stop being an idiot Dickie, we have to get out of here,’ Gyro said, grabbing Dickie by the arm and dragging her to her feet. He ushered her to the stairs and pushed her up them, ignoring her panicked protests as she realised the world around them had caught fire. Goldie watched them go, frozen to the spot.

‘Mrs McDuck, come on!’ Gyro’s voice shook her into action. She didn’t even pause to correct him, she just ran after them and up the stairs that coiled around the walls of the Bin, all the way up to the platform above them.

Dried out beams and roof tiles broke off and tumbled down into the bin, and the fire raged into a great flaming vortex, the gold warping and melting until the bottom of the Bin resembled the Golden Lagoon. If the Golden Lagoon had also been on fire.

‘Oh my god,’ Goldie heard Dickie whimper, and she saw her freeze as the flames rose higher.

Dickie couldn’t move. All of a sudden, she was back in McDuck Manor, the whole mansion ablaze, and her mother was screaming at her to get out, to let go of her and climb out of the window to safety. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She could hear the distant cries of Donald and Della, as they clung to each other and waited for death to come to claim them.

Dickie remembered that night as though it had happened yesterday. Every single detail. She remembered Dawson pushing her across the attic, toward the open window. She remembered Gigi appearing there, a rope around her waist that she quickly untied, and knotted around Dickie, Donald and Della instead. She remembered screaming as she was thrown from the roof, free falling for a moment until the rope snagged and the three kids bumped against the smouldering stone of the mansion as Goldie and Dawson lowered them to the ground to safety.

She remembered untying the rope. She remembered Della grabbing a piece of flint and cutting Donald free when they couldn’t get his knot undone. She remembered her mother and grandmother pulling the rope back up in order to use it to get themselves out.

She remembered the sound the roof made when it gave way. And through the din of her own horrific memories, she heard that sound again. Only closer, right above her, as though it was happening all over again.

‘Dickie, the roof is going to collapse! Get out of the way!’ Gyro yelled, his voice dragging her back to the present.

Dickie gaped in horror as the ceiling gave way, flaming wood and tile and plaster and stone racing towards her, ready to burn and bury her alive. Something slammed into her side and sent her skidding across the crumbling platform. She looked up just in time to see her best friend disappear beneath a wild fireball and fall into the burning Bin.

‘Gyro!’

Dickie scrambled to her feet and threw herself after her him, almost toppling over the edge herself. She would have done too, would have followed him into the inferno below, if it weren’t for Goldie catching the hood of her jacket and pulling her back.

‘Dickie, stop - he’s gone.’ Goldie said, not quite able to believe it herself.

‘No! He can’t be - he can’t - he was the only one left - he can’t be gone!’ Dickie rambled and wailed, reaching wildly to grab hold of nothing.

‘He is sweetheart, I’m so sorry,’ Goldie pulled the girl to her feet, Scrooge’s words still spinning in her head. She had to get them out of there.

Dickie threw her arms around Goldie’s neck and sobbed unreservedly into her shoulder, even as the flames below began to lick their way up the walls. Goldie held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head soothingly while the other reached to unclip her grappling gun, her eyes searching wildly through the fire for a way out. Soon, the platform beneath them was going to give out. She knew Scrooge’s office had windows, but the ceiling collapse had brought with it a wall of flame that burned all around them, blocking every exit.

‘Dickie, I’m going to need you to take a leap of faith here and trust me,’ Goldie said, pulling away from the girl just slightly to reach into the neckline of her blouse.

‘What?’ Dickie mumbled, blinking confusedly through her tears.

Goldie pulled an amulet out from under her clothing, tugging on the cord that held it around her neck until it was as loose as it could go. She slipped the cord over Dickie’s head so the amulet sat around both of their necks.

‘What is that?’ Dickie asked.

‘Eye of Demogorgon. Makes you impervious to burns.’ Goldie said quickly. ‘Don’t think too much about it, just hold onto me.’

And with that, Goldie scooped the gangly teenager up into her arms. Dickie clung to her instinctively, her arms locking tightly around Goldie’s neck and her long legs hooking around her waist so that Goldie held her like she would a child.

‘Close your eyes, don’t open them until I say. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ Dickie nodded, her words muffled as she hid her face in Goldie’s mane of hair.

Goldie steeled herself and ran into the fire, clutching Dickie to her like she was the most precious treasure. As the heat engulfed them, she heard Dickie whimper so she held her even tighter but never strayed from her course, which she knew would take her straight to Scrooge’s office. She ran and ran, until suddenly she saw stars up ahead, barely twinkling through the thick smoke. The roof of the bin had entirely caved in, and the penthouse level of Scrooge’s office was about to follow. Goldie pushed onward, her sights set on the horizon, and just as the floor beneath her feet started to give way she took an almighty leap and hurled herself and Dickie out of the money bin and into the night’s sky.

They fell when the Money Bin did. The walls cracked and began to crumble, and it was all Goldie could do to find something sturdy enough to aim her grappling gun at. She managed to hook onto a girder and swing them to safety, but they still crashed to the ground with a heck of a bump. As soon as they touched down, Goldie rolled them out of the way and dragged Dickie to her feet, pulling the amulet cord off of her so that she could move freely.

Before they could even catch their breath, the Money Bin gave an almighty groan and pitched above them, finally succumbing to the fire that raged within. Dickie could only watch as the tower toppled and tumbled toward them, but Goldie seized her change and snapped the vortex manipulator onto her wrist, twisting the dial and throwing herself at Dickie. Her arms locked around the girl’s waist and they disappeared just as the rubble hit the ground.

On the horizon, the sun started to rise behind the smouldering city.

The Shadow War was finally over, and the line of Clan McDuck had ended with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......did I just kill off two characters in one chapter? And one of them was Scrooge? Yes, yes I did. I’M SORRY. Please don’t hate me. It had to happen. 
> 
> This was a particularly challenging chapter to write and I really want to know what you thought of it. Comments/feedback much appreciated! Thank you all for sticking with me (I hope you still do after this)


	7. Chapter 7

They landed on the hillside, not far from the spot on which Goldie had left her bike, what seemed like weeks before. Had it only been yesterday? So much had happened since then.

Dickie groaned in her arms, and Goldie let go of her for the most part, keeping a steadying hand on the small of her back. She knew all too well what was coming, and much as she wished she could stop it she knew the girl would feel better when it was done.

As if in cue, Dickie doubled over and threw up.

Goldie loosed a hair tie from her own ponytail and helped Dickie pull her hair back from her face, rubbing a hand on her back as the poor girl wretched and heaved.

‘It’s okay,’ Goldie said, even though she knew it wasn’t. This whole situation was so far from okay.

Dickie wiped at her mouth and rested her hands on her knees, not trusting herself to stand back upright. Her eyes were still tightly closed and she was breathing heavily.

‘What the hell was that?’ She managed to gasp, her voice dry.

‘That was inter dimensional time travel,’ Goldie explained. ‘It’s a bitch. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.’

‘Mmm hmm,’ Dickie murmured, still with her eyes resolutely closed. She sounded like she wasn’t about to test that theory any time soon.

Just then, Goldie chanced to look up at the horizon. And what she saw made her blood run cold.

There, over the Duckburg skyline, was a swirling vortex of malevolent shadows, swelling in the sky.

Goldie didn’t pause to think. She stepped in front of Dickie, blocking the scene from view and causing the teenager to finally risk opening her eyes to stare up at her in confusion. 

‘Sorry kid,’ Goldie said grimly, and took out the vortex manipulator one more time, twisting the dials down to the lowest setting and aiming it at her.

‘Wait - what?’ Dickie began, her eyes widening when she saw what Goldie was about to do. But the moment she opened her mouth to speak, Goldie pressed a button and fired a blast of vortex energy right in her face.

Dickie was unconscious before she hit the floor.

‘Damn,’ Goldie muttered under her breath. A good grandmother would have caught her, or at least softened her fall somehow. Or, you know, not knocked their granddaughter out in the first place.

‘It’s better this way,’ she justified, unsure who she was really speaking to as she gathered Dickie into her arms and carried her over to the sidecar. Absently, she thought to herself that the girl was far to easy to carry. She made a mental note to put in a standing order to room service when they got back to the hotel.

When she was certain Dickie was safely tucked into the sidecar and not about to fall out - or wake up any time soon - Goldie turned back to the swiftly darkening cityscape.

It was a horrid kind of deja vu. Shadows filled the sky and gathered over the Money Bin. There was no doubt that it was Magica again, but this was a different time, Duckburg was a different city, and she was fighting a different Scrooge. There was no way that events would be unfolding the same way. She laughed bitterly to herself at the thought - there was no way Scrooge was going to be defeated by that witch because he was mooning over her. Honestly, he was most likely only a couple of steps away from kicking her ass all the way back into the shadows again.

And yet...

Would she be unwelcome, if she went? If she tried to help? Probably. It wasn’t too long ago she’d swindled him out of a whole boat load of gold, after all. And what, did she think she was just going to be able to rock up to McDuck Manor, just weeks after completely ransacking it, and tell Scrooge she’d had a change of heart after a hundred years, all because a teenager from another world called her Granny?

And because he’d called her his beautiful golden angel.

And because he’d just died in her arms.

 _Take the bairn and run_...

Goldie shook herself from her thoughts. It was another world, she reasoned. They were different people. The Scrooge of this world didn’t keep a lock of her hair as his greatest treasure. The Scrooge of this world had left her in Dawson. He never read her letter, he never came home to her. Instead they’d spent a hundred years in a twisted game of cat and mouse and one-upmanship, each keeping the other on a pedestal the other could never hope to reach.

Scrooge had lived a lifetime of adventure... but he’d done it without her. And he’d survive this without her too.

With one last wistful glance at the skies over the Money Bin, Goldie made her choice. She kicked her leg over the bike and reached down for her helmet. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she hopped off and secured the helmet on Dickie’s head instead.

Together, they sped away from Duckburg, toward Goldie’s hotel in St Canard, the second great Shadow War happening just out of sight.

 

 

When Dickie finally woke up, it took her a moment to work out where she was.

She sank deep into an impossibly comfortable bed; silk sheets and fluffy pillows and a comforter so soft she struggled to find her way out from under it. She had forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel safe.

And then, just as suddenly, she remembered.

It hit her like a blow to the gut. Suddenly, the sheets were wrapped around her and she was trapped, she couldn’t get out - she couldn’t _breathe_. When Goldie came in, laden with a mug of nutmeg tea and a plate of marmalade smothered toast, she found Dickie in the middle of a full blown panic attack and well on her way to falling off the bed.

She quickly put the meagre breakfast down and hurried over, freeing her from the blankets and gathering her close until at last her breathing evened out and she was relatively calm again.

‘Wait... how did we get back here?’ Dickie asked eventually, frowning as a vague memory came back to her through the haze. ‘Did you... did you _knock me out_?’

‘What? Of course not! What kind of a grandmother do you think I am?’ Goldie feigned innocence, and Dickie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

‘Exactly the kind I’m used to,’ She grumbled. But there was something oddly comforting about being lied to by Goldie. It was just like old times.

When she was sure Dickie really wasn’t going to tumble off the bed, or crumble into pieces if she let her go, Goldie turned her attention back to the tea and toast on the side table and moved it closer to Dickie so she could help herself.

‘This is probably not what I should be feeding you.It’s full of sugar.’ Goldie shrugged. ‘But it’s my favourite breakfast.’

‘Mine too.’ Dickie managed a small smile.

There was silence. It wasn’t actually awkward. In fact, it was oddly... right. After a while, Goldie summoned all of her courage and spoke.

‘I’ve never had another person I need to think about.’ She confessed, taking a sudden deep interest in the hem of her own shirt. ‘It’s always just been me, against the world. Sure, sometimes Scrooge is there too but not really.’

‘I guess what I’m trying to say is... Look, I’m going to get this wrong. I’m going to mess up, all the time. But I want you to know, I’m going to try really hard not to.’

‘What are you saying?’ Dickie’s voice was forcibly calm. She had faced so much disappointment she couldn’t risk building up her hopes one more time.

‘I’m saying that I know I’m not your Gigi. And I know I’m a poor substitute for everything you just lost. But... I figure you don’t really have many options, and I’m the one who brought you here, so I’m going to try to be your grandmother. If you’ll have me.’

Dickie didn’t say anything. She just shuffled over to the edge of the bed and threw her arms around Goldie’s waist, burying her face in her stomach. Goldie only hesitated for a moment, before she let her arms instinctively wrap around the girl, hushing her soothingly as her sobs began to bubble up and spill over.

She cried for Gyro, she cried for Scrooge, she cried for all the family she’d lost. But mostly she cried because she was relieved and wracked with guilt in equal measure. Because she had made it out, and they hadn’t. She cried because even after she’d lost everyone who ever loved her, somehow, her impossible family had still showed up to save her. She cried because she had survived. She cried because no one else had.

‘It’s okay,’ Goldie murmured, rubbing a hand up and down her back. ‘It’ll be okay.’

Dickie clung to Goldie as though she were her oxygen, and Goldie held her back just as tightly. She was reminded horribly clearly of a time when she’d done this for another McDuck, when Scrooge had shown up on her doorstep in pieces after losing his niece Della in space.

She had held Scrooge together then, and she’d do it for Dickie now. Because in whatever weird, twisted, back to front way, they were her family. And they were all she had.

 

 

After what seemed like hours, Dickie finally fell into an exhausted sleep. Goldie moved her carefully back into the bed, but the moment she moved away the girl’s arms reached for her so she ended up climbing in too, settling Dickie’s head in her lap and stroking her hair absently, while she switched in the TV and tuned in to Duckburg news, the volume as low as it could go.

‘See, I knew you didn’t need me, Moneybags,’ she murmured, watching the footage of Scrooge reunited with his little family with a pang in her heart she’d never felt before.

She looked down at the unlikely miracle asleep in her arms and sighed.

She should tell Scrooge about her. She should give Dickie the chance to know her Grandfather. She should give her back the family she’d lost - a version of it anyway. Anything was better than nothing. Better than _her_.

But if she did that... well, that would mean opening a door she could never close. It would mean she and Scrooge would have to finally become a permanent part of each other’s lives after more than a century of abject avoidance. It would mean she would need to give up who she was.

Or worse, it would mean Dickie would go and live with Scrooge, and then she would find out the truth about this world’s version of Goldie, and Goldie would lose her.

The thought was almost too much to bear.

Which is why, days later, when Goldie had packed them up and chartered a plane to take her and Dickie to Canada, under the guise of visiting her hotel in the city of Dawson for the fresh mountain air and a dose of nostalgia, and Dickie first saw the rolling plains of White Agony Creek where Scrooge made his first fortune and asked if they might go to visit her Grandpa some time, Goldie responded with a vehement _no_.

‘But why not?’ Dickie asked, confused.

‘I told you Dickie, Scrooge and me, we’re not the same in this world.’ Goldie explained, her heart splintering as she spoke. The shards seemed to cut into her tongue, and stab at her belly. ‘We never got married and lived happily ever after, things turned out differently for this version of us.’

Dickie considered this, and cast her grandmother a lopsided look of appraisal.

‘Well sure, but you still love each other right?’

‘That’s not... I mean... it’s not that simple!’ Goldie spluttered.

‘Gigi, I saw you two in the Money Bin. You were just as torn up as I was to watch him fade away. You _love_ him.’

Goldie was ready to deny it. She really was. But the truth spilled out of her, she couldn’t contain it.

‘Of course I do,’ she snapped, surprising both of them. ‘But that doesn’t change a damn thing. We’re not together here Dickie, we can’t just waltz into McDuck Manor and play happy families. He doesn’t know you exist... you _don’t_ exist! Not here, not to him. I’m sorry. There wasn’t really time to talk about all this before... I just had to get you out of there.’

Dickie sighed. ‘I get it. And I’m grateful, really I am. I guess I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I just didn’t think.’

‘And why would you? Honestly I am sorry. I wish it was different.’ Goldie shook her head, sadly.

Dickie’s face lit up. ‘You _do_?’

‘FOR YOUR SAKE.’ Goldie was quick to clarify. ‘I wish it was different for _your_ sake. But honestly, Scrooge and I are much happier apart. We’d have destroyed each other eventually if we’d stayed together.’

‘You didn’t though,’ Dickie said, quietly. ‘You were happy. You were so, so happy.’

‘It wasn’t us, sweetheart. Your grandparents lived a different life, in a different world. They were different people. I’m sorry.’

Dickie was quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

‘Is he mean here?’ She asked, eventually.

Goldie frowned. ‘What?’

‘I just... Is he different here? Is he not a nice man?’ 

‘Oh, no... Scrooge is. Well. He’s a grumpy old miser but he’s still Scrooge. Underneath it all he’s still got a heart of gold. Ironically.’ Goldie smiled wistfully.

Dickie rolled her eyes. Different people my eye, she thought to herself. There was nothing for it now, she reasoned. But she wasn’t afraid to settle in for the long game.

 

 

As the weeks went on, and time started to heal old wounds, Dickie began to grow restless in Dawson. Goldie took her along with her on her more vanilla adventures, and ensured she didn’t leave for too long on the more perilous ones. But even with that moderate level of excitement, Dickie started to get bored.

‘Well, what do you want to do?’ Goldie asked one morning over breakfast, when she’d had enough of the teenager’s mournful sighs and wistful expressions.

Dickie came alive in front of her eyes at the very prospect of doing _something_.

‘I don’t know!’ She said, laughing as though that was the best thing in the world. ‘I want to learn things. I want to see the world! Maybe I’ll be a writer, or a photographer! Or I might start a band.’

‘Dear god, please don’t start a band.’ Goldie grumbled into her coffee.

Dickie grinned. ‘I don’t know, I could do anything! Maybe I’ll study engineering. I could make stuff!’ 

 _Like_ _Gyro_. The thought was there, though neither of them voiced it out loud.

And so Goldie discovered that pretty much anyone could get into Calisota State University if their alluring, extremely persuasive blonde bombshell of a grandmother slipped enough cash across the Dean of Admissions desk, even undocumented teenagers without so much as a birth certificate or social security number.

Dickie was in her element at college. She may not have been quite in the same periodic table as the rest of the school, but neither she nor Goldie wasted much time bothering about that. She bounced from course to course, never lingering long enough to pass or fail, trying her hand at photography, journalism, engineering, all of the sciences, dabbling in history and geography ancient languages, and soaking up every bit of knowledge she could like a sponge.

It was in a late night study group on coastal erosion that she heard about the Cursed treasure in the cliffs of Cape Suzette. It peaked her interest, as anything about treasure did - it was genetic. She dug into the rumours as much as she could with her limited, legal resources, and came home to the St Canard penthouse overflowing with theories.

Her grandmother took one look at her research and scoffed, calling it poppycock and hearsay, and advising her to think no more of it.

Later, when Dickie had fallen asleep, Goldie found herself pouring over the notes of a legendary treasure. There were words she couldn’t quite translate - snippets of a sacrifice of some kind, vicious traps and a several thousand foot fall. This was not an adventure her well meaning but ultimately overzealous and occasionally clumsy granddaughter was going to be joining her on.

And so, after weeks of further research, one morning when Dickie headed off to school, Goldie wrote a note and left some basic instructions with Linda to cover for a week or so, and headed for Cape Suzette.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaand we’ve reached the beginning of All That Glitters. Hurrah! But don’t fret, this isn’t the end. Just a little time jump and into the good stuff. 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you wonderful readers, reviewers (*cough* hint *cough) and ILLUSTRATORS. Once again, @neopuff has completely blown my mind with her amazing illustrations and essentially drawn an entire comic of the last chapter. Check it out here: 
> 
> http://iamthehousethatfloats.tumblr.com/post/182569575410/lettheladylead-hi-kiddos-im-back-with-more
> 
> https://lettheladylead.tumblr.com/post/182569203225/and-heres-part-2-pics-from-the-first-six
> 
> AND @orcadom made this amazing character art for Scrooge and Goldie:
> 
> http://iamthehousethatfloats.tumblr.com/post/182576377910/mcdomii-domiinyq-all-that-glitters-the-last
> 
> Honestly, I am in awe of everyone. This fandom is the best. 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8

Four days in, Dickie realised she was gone.

It wasn’t unusual for Goldie to not be there when Dickie showed up at St Canard hotel at all hours of the day. Her grandmother was a free spirit, a wild one, and had a tendency to disappear on a whim whenever she felt like stealing something. She usually tried not to do that sort of thing locally, it made business challenging. But usually in those cases when Dickie was in and out of the penthouse between college stints their paths crossed at least once.

‘Linda, have you seen Goldie this week?’ She asked the concierge one morning, on her way out to a photography class.

‘Nope,’ came the helpful response. Dickie waited for anything further information that was forthcoming, but there was none.

‘Well? Do you have any idea where she went?’

‘Oh, she left a note.’

‘She did?’

‘Yeah.’

Dickie waited again, to no avail. ‘Well, can I have it?’

‘Oh, sure.’ Linda reached into her drawer and pulled out the folded piece of Blackjack branded note paper, and handed it to an impatient Dickie.

Linda Paper was not stupid. She was well trained. Goldie somehow managed to inspire spectacular loyalty in her staff, Dickie had never figured out how. Perhaps she just paid them really well. Whatever the reason, it meant that no one was ever forthcoming with any information about Goldie whatsoever - even, apparently, to her own granddaughter.

The note was short. ‘Gone after treasure. Back in a couple of days - a week tops. Love you. Gx’

A week tops, that’s what she said. Well, then it was a couple of days until she had to worry. Dickie thanked Linda, admittedly for very little, and headed out to class.

 

A week in, Dickie let herself get worried.

She called, but the line was dead. Her text messages came up as ‘read’ but she got no reply. Was Goldie reading them? Or someone else?

Linda and the rest of the staff were of no help. They all simply shrugged and said Goldie would be back, she always came back. She’d disappeared without a trace plenty of times before, sometimes for years, and she always came back. Once, she’d come back looking about fifty years younger than when she’d left. Once she’d come back with a boat load of liquid gold. And once she’d come back with a granddaughter.

But that was the difference. She didn’t disappear for weeks, months or years anymore, because she _had_ a granddaughter. Right?

Dickie forced herself to stay calm. She would be back. She always came back.

 

It was four more days until she finally did.

Linda called up to the penthouse the moment Goldie appeared on the security cameras, heading for the roof. Dickie breathed a sigh of relief, just one, and then set about appearing as nonchalant as possible. She made popcorn - she knew Goldie hated the smell - and switched on her favourite playlist, settling herself on the couch and opening up her laptop.

It was almost an hour until Goldie actually walked through the door.

Dickie had to fight not to jump up when she saw her; she was bruised and her arm was strapped up, she looked like she’d had a near miss. Dickie pushed down her own fears and reminded herself that her Grandmother could look after herself. But there was something new in her eyes. Something haunted, accompanied by something else. Something almost familiar. Dickie took note, then shook it off.

‘Wow, Granny you look like hell.’

Goldie went to the drinks cabinet in the corner and made herself a drink. Dickie watched as she downed the first glass, olive and all, and poured herself another.

‘Don’t call me that,’ Goldie grumbled. Dickie rolled her eyes. She rarely did, but after almost two weeks with nothing - no calls, no contact, nothing - she felt like getting in a dig or two.

Suddenly something hit Dickie’s shoulder. She put down her laptop and picked up the pink and purple braided friendship bracelet. Even as she held it in her hand, she felt something strange wash over her. A kind of distant memory.

Goldie finished her second cocktail, and set her jaw grimly.

‘Clear your schedule kiddo,’ Goldie said, nodding at the laptop that sat beside Dickie on the couch. ‘We’ve got a project.’

‘What kind of project?’ Dickie asked, wrinkling her nose. ‘And where the hell have you been?’

Goldie’s eyes softened, and she had the grace to look ashamed.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t call. Honestly I kept thinking I was going to leave and then I just... didn’t. I didn’t realise how long I’d been gone until I got back.’

‘You should have called,’ Dickie said. ‘I was worried.’

‘I know.’ Goldie sighed. She knew what was coming next.

‘So... Where’ve you been?’

It was all Goldie could do to stay put, every fibre of her being told her to run. Run away and don’t look back. But she fought it, and stood strong. She swallowed heavily and then answered. ‘With Scrooge.’ Was all she said.

Dickie froze. Of all the things she expected, that was the last. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to form words.

‘What?’

Goldie forewent the mixer and just topped up her glass with vodka.

‘It’s a long story,’ she sighed.

‘I don’t have anywhere to be.’ Dickie shot back, not letting her dance around the topic this time.

‘Dickie please...’

‘No, wait a minute. I’ve been asking to see him for a whole year and you said no. Over and over again you said no. Then you disappear for over a week, and I have no idea where you are, and it turns out you’ve been with _him?_ ’

‘You don’t know the whole story.’ Goldie protested. Dickie’s eyes flickered to her grandmother’s fading black eye and bandaged arm quickly, but she was too incensed to fixate on that.

‘So when you said that we couldn’t go and see him, what you really meant was _I_ couldn’t go and see him.’

‘Dickie...’

‘No I get it, you just wanted him all to yourself. Can’t screw him and then screw him over and steal his gold with your conscience along for the ride now can you?’

Goldie’s jaw dropped. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh yeah, I know about that stuff. There are some folk in Dawson with very long memories. Also, Linda has an anonymous twitter account called ‘shitmybossdoes’ that is very informative.’

‘Wait - what?’

‘I signed up for notifications. It goes back pretty far.’ Dickie was mad, but she couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

‘Alright, well she’s fired.’ Goldie said, crossing to sit beside Dickie on the couch. She sunk into it, clutching her drink tightly.

‘No she isn’t.’ Dickie muttered. She knew how empty that threat was. Despite her apparent apathy, Linda was one of Goldie’s favourites and Dickie knew it.

‘Alright, no she isn’t.’ Goldie begrudgingly agreed. ‘But she is shutting down that account. Or I’m at least getting approval.’

There was silence for a moment, as the two ducks sat together on the couch, relishing being together and being safe, whatever their current grumblings with each other might be.

Dickie looked at Goldie, who stared somewhat vacantly at something in front of her that Dickie couldn’t see. Some memory or lost dream. When Dickie really looked at her grandmother up close, she saw the quiver of her beak and the redness around her eyes, but despite that she though she had never looked more like the Goldie Dickie remembered.

‘Gigi...’ Dickie started, Goldie cut her off.

‘Dickie. Believe me I had no intention of running off to see Scrooge. But I got myself into a bit of a... situation. And Scrooge helped me get out of it.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Dickie said. Goldie took a breath.

‘I came off badly on a stupid adventure going after that damn treasure in Cape Suzette.’ She said quickly. ‘Ended up in the hospital. Scrooge busted me out and it took me a couple of days to get back on my feet.’

Dickie frowned. She knew when Goldie wasn’t telling her the whole story and these plot holes were gaping.

‘Gigi, did something bad happen?’ She asked carefully.

Goldie took another deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes tightly for a second.

‘Yes.’ She said, at last. ‘But then something... else happened.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Let’s just say you might get to meet your Grandpa again after all.’ Goldie finally relented and winced as Dickie screamed.

‘Oh my god!’

‘Don’t squeal like that, please.’ Goldie begged. ‘Inside voices only. Your grandmother has had a hell of a week.’

‘Sorry.’ Dickie said, still grinning. ‘But - How? Why? What happened?’

‘That’s a story for another day.’ Goldie said firmly. ‘Right now, we have a project.

‘What kind? What’s this bracelet about?’

‘Can’t you feel it? It’s soaked in shadow magic.’ Goldie said, glaring at the thing. Dickie bristled and held the bracelet away from her like Goldie had suddenly told her it was soaked in blood.

‘Scrooge has a ward in this world, a little girl, Webby.’ Goldie said. Dickie couldn’t help but feel a flare of jealousy. ‘Her grandmother is his housekeeper,’ Goldie explained. ‘She’s the same age as his nephews, and about a hundred times smarter. Anyway, she’s a spunky little thing, I like her. You’d like her too.’

‘If you say so,’ Dickie said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Goldie felt her heart constrict.

‘The Shadow War happened here too, Dickie,’ she said, and Dickie’s eyes flew open wide. ‘Everything happened differently, but the basic ingredients were the same. Magica. Scrooge. The shadows. The dime.’

‘But he’s alive? Grandpa?’

‘Yes,’ Goldie was quick to assure her. ‘In this world, Magica didn’t lose control of her own shadow. Scrooge beat her at her own game years ago, and her spell backfired and trapped her in the dime. But she used her magic to conjure a spirit from her shadow, and that spirit helped her come back.’

‘What kind of spirit?’ Dickie asked, imagine a whole host of demonic creations.

‘A girl, named Lena.’ Goldie said grimly. ‘Webby’s best friend. She was lost in the battle, before Magica was defeated. And we’re going to help get her back.’

Dickie pushed herself up off the couch and spun around, her eyes flashing dangerously.

‘You want me to help save the spirit Magica cast from her own shadow? _Why_?’

‘Because before Magica obliterated her, Scrooge offered her a place in his family. And that means she’s our family too.’

Dickie faltered, and Goldie got to her feet too, relinquishing her glass and taking her granddaughter’s hand in hers own.

‘We’re going to fix this for Webby,’ Goldie said, squeezing her hand and hugging it to her chest. ‘And then I’m taking you home to McDuck Manor.’

Dickie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Really?’ She whispered. Goldie nodded and Dickie threw her arms around her neck, hugging her grandmother tightly. Goldie hugged her back.

‘You’re coming too, right?’ Dickie said, her voice muffled by Goldie’s hair. Goldie hesitated, her own doubts creeping in. Sure she and Scrooge were cosy enough right now, but she could just imagine how he would look at her when he realised she’d lied to him again. Withheld a truth about something so precious to him - his family. Withheld his granddaughter. There were some things that Scrooge could forgive, but she wasn’t sure this was one of them.

‘Yeah, I’m coming too,’ she assured Dickie. She could certainly promise that. The only thing she couldn’t promise was that she would stay.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the longest, most unnecessary chapter in the entire world. But I just didn’t want to make it too easy, y’know? And I wanted to make Neopuff’s little head explode with Italian comic references.

For the next few months, Dickie flunked out of school safe in the knowledge that Goldie would get her back in when their present adventure was done. She felt like she might like to try quantum mechanics next. Why the hell not? She didn’t really know what it was but Gyro mentioned it once and it sounded cool.

In the meantime, she threw herself into research on this version of Duckburg’s Shadow War, and the origins of Shadow Magic. She was probably one of the few people in this world who knew as much as she knew about shadows, but she still didn’t know enough. She didn’t know how to separate one shadow from another when a shadow had been... infected. That was the best way she could think to describe the situation Goldie had described. This girl Lena shouldn’t exist, she was a spirit created by shadow magic, and yet somehow she did. Somehow she’d attached herself to Webby, Scrooge’s... well, Scrooge’s whatever. Niece, ward, she didn’t care. She wasn’t his granddaughter and that was what Dickie clung to when she felt her doubts start to creep in.

Goldie came back late one night to find Dickie sat at the kitchen table, hunched over her laptop, a pot of coffee beside her and several empty cans of pep next to that.

‘Burning the midnight oil, kiddo?’ She asked wearily, unloading her supplies and kicking off her boots. She groaned and stretched. ‘Dear god, that was a lot of effort.’

‘Did you get it?’ Dickie asked, looking up with wide, red eyes. Goldie nodded, depositing her bag on the table and digging around for a moment until she pulled out the silvery blade with a flourish.

Dickie’s jaw dropped. ‘How?’ Was all she could say.

Goldie shrugged, as though she popped down to the underworld and wrestled an unearthly dagger with the ability to cut through shadows from the Fates every other Tuesday.

‘Let’s just say I’m _really_ good at Poker.’ Goldie said, with a grin. Dickie rolled her eyes.

‘Really good at bluffing, more like.’ She corrected, shaking her head.

‘Exactly. That’s ninety per cent of the game if you know what you’re doing.’

She headed to the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of wine, reasoning she more than deserved it, and returned to sit opposite Dickie at the table.

‘No promises to deliver the soul of your first born in exchange or anything like that?’ Dickie checked, eyeing Goldie cautiously. Her grandmother snorted into her wine glass.

‘This is the Fates we’re talking about, sweetheart,’ she chuckled. ‘They can see my future, and they know full well I’m not laying an egg in my lifetime. But don’t worry, they didn’t ask for the soul of my first born from any dimension, or _her_ first born either, so you’re safe. All I had to agree to was a rematch when this is all done. Apparently they’ve not had a challenge like that in a while - I think they rather enjoyed it.’

‘Well, alright then,’ Dickie relented. ‘And thanks - for going. I’m just about done.’

‘And what exactly are you just about done with?’ Goldie asked, reaching out and prodding the discarded casing of her trusty old time travel device. ‘Honestly if I’d have known this thing was going to get so much use I’d have stolen a spare one.’

Dickie slapped her hand away from the device. ‘Careful with that,’ she scolded. ‘I’ve just about got it working - I just needed that knife to be able to test it properly. Now, come stand over here in the light will you?’

Goldie pulled a face. ‘Why?’

Dickie rolled her eyes again. ‘Because I can’t very well cut off a piece of my own shadow, can I? Not unless you fancy a trip back to my Duckburg to see if you can find it?’

Dickie waved her arms about to emphasise her point. She didn’t have a shadow, and Goldie did. Those were the facts. It didn’t mean she had to be enthusiastic about it.

‘Ugh, fine.’ Goldie grumbled, pushing herself up again. She stood just behind Dickie, between her and the bright light of the kitchen, and held up a hand, her little finger stuck out.

‘Just a sliver, mind you,’ she warned.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Dickie reassured her, picking up the blade carefully and raising it above the spot where Goldie’s shadow cast across the table’s surface. With the utmost concentration, Dickie sliced across the tip of her shadow’s finger.

‘Ouch,’ Goldie hissed, pulling her hand away and shaking it. ‘That hurt. Why did it hurt?’

‘Because your shadow’s a part of you, and I just cut a bit of it off.’ Dickie chuckled, balancing the small piece of darkness on the tip of the blade so she could get a closer look. ‘Now, hold this for me while I try out the manipulator.’

‘Oh no you don’t,’ Goldie said, snatching the thing up herself. ‘If either of us are being catapulted into a shadow dimension, it’s me. Just tell me what I need to do.’

Dickie looked like she was going to object for a moment, but one pointed glare from Goldie shut that down. There were times when Goldie pulled the ‘responsible adult’ card and this was one of them.

‘Alright, go stand over there and turn it on.’

‘That’s all?’ Goldie frowned.

‘That’s all.’ Dickie nodded, getting to her feet herself and holding out the blade with the piece of Goldie’s shadow still attached.

‘Alright, here goes,’ Goldie said, sterling herself for a possible trip to some unknown hell dimension. She flicked the dial and slammed her hand down on the vortex manipulator.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the fragment of shadow started to vibrate and float up into the air. Dickie gasped, and stood back. It hovered for a moment, then it zoomed across the room toward Goldie and the pulsing device. Just before it made contact, the shadow dispersed like smoke, disappearing into morning.

Dickie leapt up and punched the air. ‘It worked!’

Goldie raised an eyebrow. ‘Did it?’

‘It’s close enough. Gyro will be able to figure out the fine tuning.’ Dickie said, waving a hand dismissively.

Now Goldie raised both eyebrows. ‘ _Gyro_?’ She repeated, wondering if Dickie had gone temporarily mad. But she just put down the blade and turned her laptop around so Goldie could see the screen.

Goldie started at the mess of blue prints and techno babble for a full minute until she gave up. ‘Okay, what am I looking at?’

Dickie pointed at the screen. ‘This! These are Gyro’s designs. Someone posted them on a tech forum a couple of years ago. But this is definitely his work. He’s here, he’s in Duckburg, and he works for Grandpa so he’ll definitely help us.’

‘Yeah... uh, Dickie I’m pretty sure the Gyro in this world is an actual mad scientist,’ Goldie said warningly.

Dickie grinned. ‘He was in my world too. You just met him after I’d spent years loosening him up. He’ll help, Gigi. I know he will.’

‘Okay,’ Goldie said, deciding to trust Dickie’s judgement. This was uncharted territory for all of them, who was to say that this Gyro couldn’t be tamed by Dickie. _She_ had been tamed by Dickie, after all.

‘So, where are we at?’ Goldie changed the subject as they returned to the table. She picked up her wine again, savouring it while at the same time thinking it wasn’t half as good as that merlot she knew was sitting in a cupboard in McDuck Manor, awaiting her return. She shook that thought from her head for the time being and turned her attention back to Dickie.

‘We’ve got a dagger that slices through shadows,’ Goldie started, nodding at the item in question. ‘And a hijacked vortex manipulator that draws them to it, when they are separated from a host. It destroys them half a second later, of course, but Gyro’s going to fix that.’

‘It doesn’t destroy them, they just destabilise,’ Dickie corrected. ‘We just need him to fix it so that there’s a delay before that happens, so we have enough time to anchor this kid to the physical world before she goes poof like your little finger did.’

‘And how are we supposed to do that, exactly?’ Goldie asked, frowning, because this was where she got lost in their overly complex plan.

Dickie sighed, turning back to her laptop and clicking through a few different windows.

‘That’s the really tough part. Sure, we can draw out the shadow, and we could even cut it free, but this isn’t just a shadow of a person trapped in a thing, like with Grandpa and the dime, this is a shadow inside another shadow. We’ve got to separate them first.’

‘And we can’t do that with the knife I just nearly got trapped in the underworld getting?’ Goldie frowned, somewhat perturbed. Dickie narrowed her eyes at her grandmother.

‘No, we can’t. Not until we’ve separated them, otherwise we’re just slicing up an infected shadow. And _you_ said it was just a poker game,’ she accused.

Goldie shrugged. ‘Yeah, against three omnipotent hags, all of whom can tell the future.’ She pointed out. ‘Anyway, so, back to the shadows.’

‘I can handle the science, I picked up plenty back in my world.’ Dickie reasoned. ‘And the theory, I’ve got that down too. But it’s the magic I need help with. And I don’t know of anyone alive who knows shadow magic, except for the De Spell family.’

‘Well, it’s not like I have Magica on speed dial,’ Goldie said, unable to suppress a shudder.

‘No, but Magica isn’t the only De Spell, is she?’ Dickie said, finally finding what she’d been looking for on her laptop. ‘Aha!’

She spun the screen around to face Goldie, revealing an archive scan of an old Italian newspaper. In a picture circled in red, was a youngish looking man, perhaps a few years younger than Donald, scowling at the camera next to an article Goldie couldn’t read. He looked vaguely familiar.

‘Who the hell is that?’ She asked.

‘Poe de Spell. Magica’s baby brother.’ Dickie replied, grimly. Goldie’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline as Dickie continued. ‘I don’t like it any more than you do, but we need someone who knows the magic. Magica would never help us, but he might.’

‘Why would he?’ Goldie couldn’t help but ask. 

Dickie sighed, her shoulders slumping in a sigh of near defeat. ‘I don’t know. But it’s the only idea I’ve got.’

Goldie contemplated her granddaughter for a moment, thinking not for the first time that she needed to give herself a break. Goldie knew it was her fault - she’d kept her away from Scrooge, for her own selfish, cowardly reasons above anything else, and now Dickie saw this mission as her only way of being allowed to see him again.

So much had changed since Goldie had made that ill fated decision to stop Dickie seeking Scrooge out. And now she wondered if she could ever be forgiven for keeping them apart.

She pushed all such thoughts from her mind, for as long as she could. She was going to have to face them soon enough, just not yet.

‘Alright then,’ she said, slapping on a breezy expression. ‘So I guess we have to find Poe de Spell.’

Dickie clicked and turned to the next page in the old newspaper. ‘That’s the thing, Poe hasn’t been seen for over fifteen years. This story is about his disappearance.’

‘Oh for crying out -‘

‘He disappeared _here_ , where the paper is from. Naples. In Italy. In the shadow of Mount Vesuvius.’

Goldie froze, her interest suddenly peaked. Mount Vesuvius, where Scrooge fought Magica. Where he defeated her. Where she first cast the shadow of Lena out into the world. ‘Fifteen years ago, you say?’ She mused.

‘Almost sixteen now.’ Dickie specified.

‘Well, that is interesting.’

‘You know, Poe disappeared in my world too.’ Dickie continued. ‘Except it didn’t happen in Italy, it happened in Duckburg. He tried to talk Magica down when she first started to lose control of the shadows, and she got pissed and turned him into a crow.’

‘Of course she did,’ Goldie grumbled, with a roll of her eyes. ‘And you think the same thing happened here?’

‘Or something similar. And look, this newspaper didn’t let it go. There are articles for years about what happened on Vesuvius, about dark magic and mysterious goings on. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that for the last fifteen years, the sigil in the corner of the masthead has been a crow. It isn’t like that on anything published before the battle on Vesuvius. The editor knows something, and I reckon if we talk to him, he could at least point us in the right direction.’

Goldie nodded. ‘Alright, Naples it is then. But sleep first, you look like you’ve been to hell and back, and I actually have. We’re no good to anyone without a few hours rest.’

Dickie was about to protest that she wasn’t in the least bit tired, but then her body rebelled and she couldn’t help but get caught up in an almighty yawn.

‘Okay fine, but let’s leave first thing in the morning,’ she compromised. Goldie gave her a bit of a strange look, and Dickie just blinked sleepily in confusion.

‘Dickie,’ Goldie began, awkwardly. ‘You know... oh hell, I’m just going to say it.’ She threw caution to the wind, something she’d been doing more and more of lately. ‘Look, I’ve been keeping you away from Scrooge and that was wrong of me. All this you’re doing - and you’re doing it for a kid you’ve never even met - it’s amazing. But it isn’t the only way you can see him. We can just go right now, if you want, and then handle all this shadow stuff later.’

Goldie gave most of this speech into an empty wine glass, unable to meet Dickie’s eyes. There was silence as Dickie processed her words.

‘You know, I’m actually kind of relieved you didn’t take me there sooner.’ She said eventually. ‘I’ve been thinking about what I should say when I see him... and honestly I have no idea.’

Goldie smiled sadly. She knew the feeling. That was how she felt most times she thought about going to see Scrooge. Serious conversation was not their forte.

‘And besides, it’s been years since I’ve seen him alive.’ Dickie continued. ‘I was a kid when Magica took him in my world, there’s so much I didn’t know. Now at least I’ve had some time to figure out how to try to impress him.’

Goldie looked up sharply at that, and now it was Dickie who couldn’t meet her eye. Her gaze softened at the sight of her young, amazing, wild slip of a granddaughter who had spent so long comparing herself to all the other kids in her Scrooge’s life who already had his love, she didn’t see the absolute certainty staring her in the face.

‘Oh honey, you’re not going to need to try.’ Goldie assured her, through the lump that had just appeared in her throat. ‘He’s going to _love_ you. I can’t even tell you how much.’

‘You really think so?’ Dickie asked, uncharacteristically unsure. 

‘It keeps me up at night.’ Goldie admitted. It was true, the thought went round and round, on repeat. He’s going to love Dickie more than me, and she’s going to love _him_ more than me. And then I’m going to lose them both.

She jumped as Dickie’s arms suddenly wrapped around her shoulders from behind, hugging her tightly. She stiffened for a moment, and then melted a little into the embrace. It was taking a while to get used to, all this physical contact and shows of affection, but it wasn’t wholly unpleasant.

‘Make sure you get some sleep too, Gigi,’ Dickie said, squeezing her one last time.

‘I will. Promise.’ Goldie said, and Dickie relented and released her. She shuffled off to bed, and as soon as she was gone Goldie promptly refilled her glass and remained at the kitchen table for a few hours more, lost in her own thoughts. As sunrise dawned, she finally dragged herself to bed for a couple of hours so she could at least keep her promise to Dickie. She promised she’d sleep, she just never mentioned how much.

 

 

 

‘Every time I come to Italy I wonder why I ever left the last time,’ Goldie mused a couple of days later, sitting back in her chair in the little Neapolitan square and sipping on a glass of crisp, cold Prosecco as the midday sun beat down on them.

‘It is nice,’ Dickie had to agree, as she rifled through newspapers. ‘It’s too hot though.’

‘You live in Calisota,’ Goldie reminded her. ‘It gets just as hot there.’

Dickie wrinkled her beak. ‘It’s different though. It’s sunny but it’s not sweaty like this, you know?’

‘It’s glorious,’ Goldie insisted, pausing for a moment to peer over her oversized sunglasses at her phone, which was buzzing on and off in her hand. She couldn’t contain a smirk and Dickie immediately narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

‘Are you texting Grandpa?’ She asked in a hushed voice, staring at the phone like it might be able to hear her.

‘Maybe...’ Goldie replied, coyly.

‘What are you saying?’

Goldie grinned. ‘Oh, filthy things.’

‘Gigi!’ Dickie managed to look genuinely scandalised.

‘Well, you asked.’ Goldie chuckled. If she wanted them to all be one big happy family, she was going to have to get used to her grandparents embarrassing her.

‘Gah.’ She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out whatever imagery had infected her mind’s eye. ‘Why can’t you two just do normal old people stuff, like play words with friends and watch HGTV.’

‘Oh, we do that too.’ Goldie shrugged. ‘You just picked the wrong day to be nosy.’

‘Alright, when this is all done, you’re paying for my therapy.’ Dickie grumbled.

Goldie snorted. ‘I pay for your school, your Grandpa can pay for your therapy.’

Dickie rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the newspapers, but she couldn’t suppress a grin. She so often used to hear the exact same argument between her mother and her grandparents growing up - now she finally understood why. It was oddly comforting, while still being completely gross.

After a while, Goldie nodded at her to make a move. Dickie obediently packed up her papers and slipped away, heading for the corner they’d previously chosen as a rendezvous point. A few moments later, Goldie joined her, a full purse still weighing down her pocket.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ Dickie noted, as her happily criminal grandmother checked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been pursued.

‘Life is too short to pay for Prosecco,’ Goldie quipped. ‘Now come along, your _La_ _Tromba_ offices are this way, right?’

‘Right,’ Dickie confirmed, shuffling papers as she went. ‘It should be right over there...’

She stopped in her tracks, and Goldie smacked right into her. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head to better see what had caused her to stop in the street outside _La_ _Tromba’s_ editorial office.

‘Uncle Gideon??’ Dickie squeaked, dropping her papers to the ground in shock. Goldie’s eyebrows flew up as she regarded the duck who had just walked out of the building into the busy Neapolitan street. At Dickie’s exclamation, he froze and looked around fearfully, blinking furiously behind thick, round glasses.

‘Uncle? No, no. I’m no one’s uncle.’ He stuttered. ‘Who said I was?’

‘How many times does this sort of thing have to happen before you remember the whole ‘alternate universe’ thing, Dickie?’ Goldie admonished under her breath.

‘But it’s Uncle -‘

Recognition finally dawned on Goldie when the duck took of his glasses to polish them nervously, and she saw familiar McDuck features revealed beneath them.

‘Gideon McDuck,’ she suddenly realised where she’d seen him before. ‘My my, you’ve gotten _old_.’

The old duck was ruffled, and became immediately shifty.

‘McDuck! Never heard of the man! I’m Gideon de’Paperoni, Madame.’

There was a pause. An awkward one. Then Goldie snorted with laughter.

‘Pepperoni, really? That’s the alias you’re going for? In _Naples_?’

‘Paperoni,’ Gideon repeated, a familiar grumble in his clipped tone, despite the affected accent.

‘There are actually so many Italian sausage jokes running through my brain right now I don’t even know which one to pick.’ Goldie chuckled, while Dickie elbowed her in the ribs.

Gideon wrinkled his beak and peered though his oversized spectacles at the pair of women before him. ‘Do I... know you?’

‘Wait - does he?’ Dickie asked, chancing a side glance at Goldie.

‘Why, it’s you!’ Gideon suddenly exclaimed, pointing an accusatory digit at Goldie when he finally recognised her. ‘It’s you, you no good swindler!’

‘Oh yeah, he knows you.’ Dickie sighed, rolling her eyes. Goldie shrugged.

‘Honestly, you steal a boat one time. And I was going to give it back too, but you know what Scrooge is like-‘

‘Shh! Not so loud!’ Gideon hissed. ‘Do you know how long I’ve worked to get away from that old miser and his foul reputation? Keep waving that name about and I’ll lose half my readership before long. They value truth and honesty, you see. Something my _half_ brother knows nothing about.’

Goldie bristled, visibly. ‘Oh, I just remembered why I don’t like you.’

‘Gigi, please.’ Dickie begged. ‘Uncle Gideon, can we please come inside? We need to talk to you about Poe de Spell.’

‘Who is this child? Why does she keep calling me Uncle?’ Gideon demanded of Goldie, as though this was all some elaborate joke at his expense.

‘I’d wager because she’s from an alternate universe where you’re somehow significantly less of a self important jackass with a chip on his shoulder the size of Rannoch Moor,’ Goldie snapped. She was done with small talk, and within seconds she’d successfully pinned his arms behind his back and ushered him back inside, with Dickie trailing after her helplessly.

‘Nothing to see here, just old family friends. Right, _Pepperoni_?’ Goldie practically snarled as she marched Gideon through his own office, heading for the back stairs. Gideon nodded, sweat beading on his brow.

Once they were safely ensconced in the editor’s office, Gideon managed to wriggle out of Goldie’s iron grasp and Dickie took her chance.

‘Listen, I know you don’t know me.’ She said, quickly. ‘But in my world, I knew you. I liked you - loved you even. You were my Uncle Gideon. You used to look after me every other Tuesday when I was little, and I’d come into your office and pretend I worked there. Sometimes you’d give me an old camera and I’d run around taking pictures for the paper and one time you even published one. It was terrible, but you did it anyway.’

‘Who are you?’ Gideon asked, after a moment of silent scrutiny.

‘I’m Dickie.’ The girl replied, simply. She didn’t have anything more than that.

‘She’s my grandkid.’ Goldie added. ‘And your niece. Sort of. In every way that matters, anyway.’

‘And you came from another world?’ Gideon asked Dickie, seriously. Dickie just nodded.

‘I don’t know much about this world.’ She admitted. ‘I just know everyone I lost in my world is still alive here, but most of them are a lot less happy.’

Gideon smiled, somewhat bitterly. ‘Yes, well. It sounds like the place you came from was a lot nicer than here.’

‘The place she came from was destroyed by Magical de Spell,’ Goldie interjected. ‘That’s why we’re here.’

‘Magica? But she hasn’t been seen in Naples for years, not since she fought... _Scrooge_... on Mount Vesuvius.’

‘We’re not looking for Magica. We’re looking for Poe.’

‘Poe? Poe who?’ Gideon asked, sounding utterly baffled. 

Dickie’s shoulders slumped in disappointment but Goldie wasn’t deterred. She had already cased the joint multiple times and so when Gideon’s eyes flickered momentarily to the disused dumb waiter on the back wall before he schooled his features into a look of innocent confusion, she wasted no time in marching over and ripping up the hatch to reveal an oddly nervous looking crow. She grabbed the crow by the neck, silencing his squawk and carrying him over to where Dickie and Gideon stood.

Goldie held the crow out and shook him in Gideon’s face.

‘Poe.’ She said, gesturing to the crow with her spare hand. She deftly switched her hands so she could hold onto the bird’s legs instead, and flipped him upside down, letting go of his throat so that he could speak when she addressed him.

‘So, what? Ever since Scrooge defeated Magica you’ve been skulking around Naples, helping Pizza brain over there in securing his ‘honest scoops’ for the paper? That’s a bit of a step down for a De Spell, isn’t it?’

The crow huffed, and cawed grumpily.

‘It’s not like I had much of a choice, is it?’ He grumbled, his voice croaky and disused. ‘McDuck went off with his dime, and Magica’s spell kept me here, stuck like this. A crow’s gotta eat, you know?’

‘Poe, we need your help,’ Dickie began earnestly. Goldie and Poe rolled their eyes simultaneously.

‘Of course you do, but why should I give you any help?’ Poe snickered, and Goldie shook him again, even though she thoroughly agreed with the sentiment.

‘Because the girl we’re trying to save - she’s your family.’ Dickie explained. ‘Lena. Magica made her, she cast her from her shadow, and Lena calls her her Aunt.’

‘Take from that what you will,’ Goldie muttered meaningfully. The crow gulped.

‘What do you expect me to do? I can’t do magic in this form.’ Poe said. ‘And my sister hasn’t been seen in decades.’

‘We need a spell to separate two shadows,’ Dickie said. ‘Can’t you help us with that, at least?’

The crow shrugged, which was quite impressive considering he was upside down and also a crow.

‘I don’t know any spells like that.’

Goldie huffed impatiently and reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, velvet wrapped book that Dickie had never seen before.

‘You might not know them by heart, but I’ll wager you can read them.’

‘Where did you get that?’ Poe demanded. Goldie just grinned.

‘You’d be surprised what you can pick up at McDuck Manor when no one’s looking. A book of shadow magic is actually one of the less interesting items I’ve pilfered. Now, I’ve tried the incantations but while I am many things, I’m no sorceress. You’re going to read this, and tell us which spell we need, and then you’re going to speak the incantation into Dickie’s phone and then we can be on our way.’

The crow looked thoughtful for a moment, and then, when he’d sufficiently considered her proposal, he simply replied;

‘No.’

Goldie sighed, exaggeratedly, and then dropped him. With a panicked squawk, Poe righted himself and clapped furiously toward a high perch, for all the good that would do him.

‘Oh alright then, I guess me, Dickie and Scrooge’s number one dime will be on our way then,’ Goldie tossed her golden hair over her shoulder and went to take Dickie by the arm to leave.

Poe flew up in her face, black feathers flying.

‘Number one dime??’ He croaked, wildly. ‘Give it to me!’

‘You don’t have the dime,’ Gideon said, folding his arms. ‘That old miser wouldn’t let it out of his sight, even for you. He loves that piece of silver more than he’ll ever care for any woman.’

‘I’m not _any_ _woman_ ,’ Goldie snapped. She reached into her blouse and pulled out the dime that she’d been wearing around her own neck since Dickie’s Grandpa Scrooge had faded away in her arms.

‘It’s fake,’ Gideon scoffed.

‘Then you won’t mind if I give your little pet a closer look at it, will you?’ Goldie dared the old duck to get in her way, and tossed the dime toward Poe. The crow swooped to catch it in his beak and the moment he did, a familiar poof of shadow magic filled the office and when the smoke cleared there stood a scrawny, soot covered duck where there had once been a crow.

Poe coughed and spluttered, and twisted all around trying to get a good look at himself and make sure he was properly intact. Goldie grinned, knowing she had him.

‘Hello Poe,’ she said, holding out the spell book and nudging Dickie to prompt her to get out her phone.

Poe looked for a moment like he might refuse, but there was a dangerous glint in Goldie’s eye that told him exactly what would happen if he did. So, he begrudgingly obliged.

Once he was done, Poe made to leave. He had fifteen years of mayhem to catch up on. As he passed Dickie, he couldn’t help but ask;

‘Hey, you know where she is? My sister?’

Dickie’s eyes narrowed, dangerously. In that moment, she had never looked more like her grandmother. ‘In my world, your sister murdered everyone I ever loved. If I knew where she was, she’d be dead.’

Poe stood back, surprised, and then grinned.

‘You and me both, kid. Be sure to send that mini- De Spell my regards when you find her. Her Uncle Poe’s not quite so much of an asshole as her Aunt Magica.’

‘The bar’s set pretty low there,’ Dickie remarked.

Poe winked. ‘Isn’t it just?’

And then he was gone.

Gideon hesitantly picked up the discarded dime from the dusty floor, holding it in front of his bespectacled face for a closer look. He regarded it somewhat reverently, Dickie noticed. Then she noticed something else - Goldie’s phone had started buzzing in her back pocket again.

‘Oh my god, honestly can’t you two horny old ducks go a single day without sexting or whatever it is you do on that thing?’ Dickie groaned. Goldie dug out her phone and glanced at the screen, frowning at the unfamiliar number.

‘It’s not Scrooge - hang on. Hello?’ Goldie suddenly held the phone far away from her ear as high pitched chattering burst from the receiver. ‘Wait, calm down. Webby? Is that you? What’s going on?’

Goldie gestured wildly for a pen and Dickie found her one, offering a page of a freshly published _La_ _Tromba_ for her to scribble on, much to Gideon’s horror.

‘Mmm hmm, yep okay - a faery dimension you say? Goodness he does go to a lot of effort to get my attention, doesn’t he? Might as well have fallen down a well.’ Goldie grinned. ‘Alright, sweetheart, you stay right where you are. We’re coming to get you.’

She hung up and looked at Dickie.

‘Ready to go make an entrance?’ She grinned. Dickie grinned back, nodding nervously. She packed up her papers and, because she was Dickie, hugged Gideon tightly before bouncing out the door.

Goldie lingered just for a moment, and nodded pointedly at the dime clutched in Gideon’s ink blotted fingers.

‘You should hang onto that,’ she said, grimly. ‘Perhaps one day you’ll learn what real honest work is actually about.’

And then she flounced out after Dickie, leaving the old duck alone in his office at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, where he’d stay until the next time the mighty volcano decided to blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE’RE OFF BACK TO DUCKBURG AT LAST!
> 
> If you’re extremely confused by all the random people who appeared in this chapter, don’t even worry about it. We’re off back to Duckburg and everyone there is familiar and fluffy and adorably angsty. Thanks for humouring me with this one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bonus of me taking a thousand years to write that last mega chapter is that I was on a roll and churned out this one too. 
> 
> We’re back in Duckburg and obviously the family reunion goes super smoothly.

Webby hung up the phone and slumped against the wall, sliding down it to join the boys were they sat, panting and exhausted.

‘She’s coming,’ was all she could say.

‘I hope she brings snacks,’ Louie remarked, earning a glare from Webby and a half hearted mumble of agreement from his brothers. This had been one heck of an adventure that had left them running for their lives from grumpy faeries and their Uncle Scrooge trapped in a faery dimension, possibly permanently. The boys needed to be able to laugh, or they would cry.

‘What are we supposed to do until she gets here?’ Dewey asked, already going stir crazy from lack of action.

‘We just have to wait,’ Huey said, though the thought pained him. ‘You heard Uncle Scrooge, we can’t go back or we’ll get trapped too.’

‘What makes you think Goldie can do any better than us?’ Dewey demanded, waving his arms wildly. He was met with three equally incredulous expressions. ‘Yeah, okay. Good point.’

‘She’ll be here soon,’ Webby said again. ‘She promised to help.’

It took hours, almost the whole day, but eventually the kids’ ears pricked up at the sound of an engine roaring up the hillside. At last, a Jeep appeared in the distance with two blonde heads visible in the front seat.

As the car skidded to a halt at the foot of the cliff, Goldie hopped out.

‘Hey there kids,’ she said with a wave, as though she’d just seen them last week. ‘Did you miss me?’

Webby practically threw herself on Goldie, hugging her tightly around the waist. She stumbled back a bit under the impact but managed to pat the little girl’s head in awkwardly returned affection.

The other door opened and a tall blonde girl stepped out, eyeing the boys with a wrinkled brow of confusion.

‘Boys, Webby, this is Dickie.’ Goldie introduced her. ‘She’s going to take you home while I go and get your uncle out of the fine mess he’s found himself in.’

‘Hi, I’m Webby!’ Webby waved brightly, and Dickie couldn’t help but crack a half smile as she waved back. The boys, meanwhile, practically tripped over themselves in their attempt to greet the newcomer with any degree of smoothness and thus ended up in a heap at her feet.

‘Triplets?’ Dickie asked, cocking an eyebrow at Goldie. When she thought of Scrooge’s nephews she thought of Donald, Fethry and Gladstone. She hadn’t been expecting anyone else. Just another way this world was different to her own, she supposed. Though Goldie might have mentioned it.

‘Donald’s kids,’ Goldie explained quickly. ‘Well, his sister’s. One of them’s called Huey, another’s called Dewey and the last one’s called Louie. They’re colour coded but I’ve never cracked it.’

‘You know Uncle Donald?’ Dewey piped up, all three of the boys dismissing Goldie’s blatant disregard of their individual identities without offence. It was really quite impressive that she’d remembered their names at all.

‘Kinda,’ Dickie replied, evasively. ‘A long time ago. Another lifetime, really.’

‘Cool!’ Huey said, getting to his feet and brushing the dust off his clothes. ‘I’m Huey, that’s Dewey and Louie’s over there on the floor.’ Louie gave a little half hearted salute.

‘Huey red, Dewey blue, Louie green - got it,’ Dickie nodded. ‘Alright then kiddos, back to the mansion we go. Gigi will get Gra- I mean, your Uncle Scrooge - back safely.’

‘If I’m gone more than thirteen hours, that’s when you can start to worry.’ Goldie said, unstrapping her motorcycle from the back of the Jeep. Then without further ado, she shot her grappling gun up the side of the mountain and started to heave herself up the rock face with ease. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’

‘That doesn’t leave much,’ Dickie muttered, with a conspiratorial wink at the kids. ‘Alright come on, into the Jeep before she brings all of Pandemonium down on us.’

The kids piled in, the three boys in the back and Webby in the front seat next to Dickie. Technically she knew how to drive, though she didn’t officially have a license in this world, so this was going to be interesting.

‘So who are you anyway? How do you know Uncle Donald? And Aunt Goldie?’ Louie asked, as they started bumping down the mountain road.

‘Aunt Goldie? She lets you call her that?’ Dickie deflected.

‘Nope.’ Louie grinned. Dickie rolled her eyes.

‘Well, that’s a long story. And if I tell it, I can’t play music as we drive. And if I can’t play music what’s the point in even being old enough to drive, right?’

‘RIGHT!’ Dewey punched the air as Dickie turned the volume on the radio up to full blast.

The distraction worked well enough, all the way back to Duckburg. By the time they pulled into the driveway of McDuck Manor, their voices were croaky and their ear drums thumping, but it had been worth it.

Dickie hadn’t quite anticipated how much the kids would be bouncing off the walls after a drive like that, she had hoped they’d have worn themselves out but it didn’t look like it. So without further ado, she suggested the only reasonable thing; a paintball war.

Their campaign lasted for several hours - Dickie and Webby taking turns in teaching the boys combat techniques that they proceeded to completely ignore and then look surprised when the girls easily bested them in the battlefield. When Dickie dodged Dewey’s attack with a flip and slide move that she’d only ever seen Scrooge achieve, Webby realised they still didn’t know who this girl was. The curve of her beak, the golden hair, it was all familiar and then not. 

‘Who _are_ you?’ Webby asked, frowning. She asked just as they were about to leap out of the bushes and claim their victory at last.

Dickie opened her mouth awkwardly, trying to work out an answer that wouldn’t ignite a thousand more questions.

Just then, the gates flew open and the the revving sounds of Goldie’s motorcycle could be heard. Moments later it appeared, with Goldie perched atop the bike, her golden hair flowing in the wind, while Scrooge sat hunched and white knuckled in the side car.

‘They’re back!’ Huey cried, and Webby and Dickie leapt our of their hiding place, the game forgotten.

‘Uncle Scrooge, you’re okay! We were so worried!’ Webby cried, launching herself at Scrooge as he staggered out of the side car.

‘Hey again, _Aunt_ _Goldie_.’ Louie teased, flipping paint out of his hair to land at her feet.

‘Thanks for picking up Uncle Scrooge, Goldie. We owe you one!’ Huey said.

‘No problem kids.’ Goldie shrugged. ‘Not the first time your old Uncle needed my help to get him out of a sticky situation.’

She glanced at Scrooge, expecting a rebuke, but he wasn’t looking at her or the boys. He was staring at the girl standing behind them, with war paint still on her face and leaves and twigs sticking out of her wild blond hair. Her freckled face was entirely familiar, but at the same time he knew he’d never seen it before.

Goldie stood back and watched, cautiously. A strange nervousness settled in her stomach and she felt her mouth go dry. The kids stood between them all, thoroughly confused.

The girl just grinned awkwardly, her bright eyes glittering like her grandmother’s did when she was up to something. She gave a little wave.

‘Hey there, Grandpa Scrooge.’

‘GRANDPA?!’ Webby and Huey’s jaws dropped in sync.

‘Wha-ha-ha-haaaaaaaat?!’ Dewey let out a long exclamation that ended with the world’s most shit eating grin. ‘Oh, this is good.’

Goldie looked like was weighing up whether or not it was worth the hassle of giving the kid a slap.

‘ _Wait_ \- is she in the will?’ Louie asked, concerned. Everyone ignored him.

‘Goldie...’ Scrooge was lost for words. He tore his eyes from Dickie and turned to Goldie, and on his face she saw everything she had feared to see in this moment. Shock for sure, but also pain and betrayal, disappointment - that was always the worst - and utter disbelief. It was as though whatever the explanation, he couldn’t see an outcome in which she hadn’t been lying to him about something so important he didn’t have words to express it.

Goldie felt sick. She suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes.

Scrooge cleared his throat, awkwardly. He was suddenly very aware of his audience. ‘So, this is...’

‘Your granddaughter, yes. Her name’s Dickie. I didn’t choose it. I don’t think.’

Scrooge was silent as he took this in, looking from Goldie to the nervous twig of a girl before him.

‘And who’s her grand _mother_?’

Goldie scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘Well I am, obviously. Can’t you see the family resemblance?’ She grinned, but he wasn’t laughing. Scrooge opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, dumbly searching for words. He was starting to turn quite pink under his whiskers. ‘Now, Scroogey,’ Goldie warned. ‘Don’t go getting your knickers in a twist over nothing.’

Dickie glanced at Goldie, panic in her eyes - this was not the way it was supposed to go. Make an entrance, give Scrooge a fright, then explain everything and have a jolly old laugh. Dickie realised quite quickly the error in this plan. The two people involved were Goldie O’Gilt and Scrooge McDuck.

‘Getting my - and over - I cannae believe you would be so - _curse me kilts_ , woman! Is this lass our granddaughter or not?’

‘Yes, she is.’ Goldie replied, firmly. Then she winced when her memory caught up with her. ‘Sort of.’

‘Sort of?!’ Scrooge spluttered. ‘Either she is or she isn’t!’

‘Well, that part’s a bit complicated,’ Goldie admitted, smirking at Dickie. Dickie did not smile back.

Scrooge’s face flushed bright red. ‘It seems pretty simple to me!’

Now it was Goldie’s turn to get riled up. Her eyes glinted dangerously as she rounded on Scrooge.

‘Oh really? It’s _simple_ is it? Tell me Scrooge, what about you and me has _ever_ been _simple_?’

‘This should be,’ Scrooge insisted, gesturing at Dickie and looking torn between having this argument in front of the kids and having to find a way to communicate his point without having to go into the birds and the bees. ‘The girl hatched from an egg, and her parents hatched from eggs, and to be our granddaughter that means one of those eggs had to have come from _you_. And I had to have been... involved... at some point...’ He blushed so furiously that the kids would have sniggered if they weren’t so caught up in the drama. ‘So where’s the complication, Goldie? Or do you not remember exactly how many men you were involved with back then, hmm? Is that it?’

There was silence. Even Dickie gasped. Scrooge had crossed a line and they all knew it. Goldie just stared at him for a moment, a strange look in her eye. It was almost victorious, like she wanted this fight to happen. Like it was easier than the alternative.

‘How dare you?’ She hissed, eventually. ‘You know what, you don’t want to hear the perfectly reasonable explanation then fine. Save yourself next time. Come on, Dickie.’

‘Wait - what?’

Dickie watched in absolute disbelief as Goldie stormed off back towards the bike. She tugged her helmet onto her head and kicked a leg over the bike, revving the engine angrily.

Dickie stood in the middle of her stubborn grandparents, utterly perplexed. She should have seen this coming. Of course they were going to be completely stupid about the whole thing.

She glanced at Scrooge and found that he was looking at her, hurt and confusion evident in his big wide eyes. Dickie could have kicked Goldie for making her face a Scrooge like this, so soon after she’d lost her own version.

‘She didn’t mean that - this isn’t how this was supposed to go,’ Dickie said, dancing between them and eventually deciding to run after Goldie. ‘Look just... don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll be right back.’

Dickie hurried over to the bike which had started to inch down the driveway. She grabbed Goldie’s arm.

‘What the heck, Gigi?’

‘Get in, Dickie. We’re going.’ Goldie said, her voice tight and strained.

‘The hell we are, I haven’t even spoken to him yet!’ Dickie objected, racing around to stand in front of the bike so Goldie couldn’t run away.

‘Dickie, _please_...’ Goldie pleaded, and now that Dickie could see her eyes properly through her helmet visor she could see that they were red.

‘What did you expect?’ Dickie couldn’t help but ask. ‘Of course he got mad! You could have sat him down and explained it all, but instead you threw it at him, you didn’t give him the whole story, and you made it sound like you’d been keeping me a secret for however long because you wanted to get a rise out of him. What is wrong with you?’

‘I thought I could do it, but I can’t.’ Goldie confessed, her grip on the handle bars tightening. ‘It’s too much. I’m sorry.’

Dickie couldn’t pretend to understand what was running through Goldie’s head right now. But she knew whatever it was was real, she wasn’t messing with her.

She took one last desperate look over her shoulder to where Scrooge stood, watching them with an unreadable expression. Dickie tried to communicate a hundred things in one moment. She hadn’t wanted it to go like this, she wanted to talk to him, she didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t leave Goldie on her own like this, he was an idiot - and so was her grandmother. She would fix this and come back.

‘Alright, lets go,’ Dickie agreed at last, tearing her eyes away and hopping into the side car. The moment she was in, Goldie revved the engine and they flew across the drive way, through the gates and out into the streets of Duckburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH did you think Goldie had gotten over all her deep set issues of trust and commitment that have plagued this infuriating couple for over a hundred years?? NOPE. Oh Goldie, you’re a mess. I love you. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end. Right?


	11. Chapter 11

The boys and Webby watched Goldie and Dickie drive away, shell shocked and full of questions. But when they turned to Scrooge, no one dared ask any. Their old Uncle was frozen, his expression hollow and helpless. He looked as though he’d just watched his Money Bin burn down.

Then, without a word or warning, he turned on his heel and marched into the house in silence, slamming the door behind him.

The kids all looked at each other.

‘Er - what just happened?’ Louie asked, a frown wrinkling his brow.

‘I think we just got a new cousin,’ Huey said, then he closed his eyes and did some quick calculations in his head. ‘First cousin, once removed? Is that right?’

‘Oh, who even knows in this family,’ Dewey commented, rolling his eyes. ‘More importantly, Goldie’s been keeping a kid a secret from Scrooge? And a grandkid too?’

‘She said there was an explanation,’ Webby reminded him. ‘A perfectly reasonable one.’

‘How can there be?’ Louie asked. ‘I don’t know how much you know about the birds and the bees Webs, but it’s not like Goldie couldn’t have known she laid an egg.’

‘All I’m saying is, she said there was an explanation and we haven’t heard it yet.’ Webby shrugged. ‘And I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions until we do.’

‘Well, I think Scrooge just jumped to a pretty big conclusion,’ Dewey commented, glancing up at Scrooge’s window just in time to see the drapes drawn closed.

Webby nodded in grim agreement, and together the kids all headed back into the mansion.

 

 

Goldie couldn’t stop her angry tears from falling as she drove through the city. The wind rushed by, drying most as they fell and hiding her sorrow from the world, but it couldn’t catch them all and the few that landed on Dickie made her look up at the sky, expecting rain. When she saw nothing but blue skies, she realised where the water had come from and something twisted in her gut as she looked up at her grandmother.

Every time Goldie had spoken to Scrooge since she came back from Cape Suzette, she’d been happy. Her eyes lit up in a way Dickie remembered from her own world, and never expected to see again. Now, everything was different. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was because of her.

‘Gigi, where are we going?’ She asked, as they didn’t make the turn she expected towards St Canard but rather stayed their course through the centre of Duckburg.

‘The Money Bin.’ Goldie answered.

Dickie was confused. Hadn’t they just decided to leave Scrooge be for the time being?

‘But why?’ She asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as the cityscape of Duckburg whizzed by.

‘Because that’s where your mad scientist is.’ Goldie said. ‘We need him to fix the manipulator so we can separate the shadows and save Lena for Webby.’

Dickie gripped the sides of the sidecar tightly as they flew over a speed bump. Again with Webby and Lena and shadows and ridiculousness. Before it had been her who couldn’t let it go, now it seemed it was Goldie.

‘Well yes, but we don’t have to do that right now.’ Dickie reasoned. ‘You’re upset - we can take a break.’

‘I’m not upset, I’m pissed.’ Goldie snapped, and the bike swerved a little as she did. ‘I have to do this. I made a promise to that little girl, and whatever your idiot Grandfather might think, I am a woman of my word.’

‘You promised, but you didn’t set a time limit on it. Gigi, you don’t have to do this now. We can leave and come back when things have calmed down a little.’ Dickie pleaded.

‘ _No_ , Dickie.’ Goldie said, her voice wavering dangerously. ‘ _Please_. I have to. And then when it’s done, you can just explain to Scrooge who you really are, and he’ll love you like you deserve. You’ll have your family again. You can go _home_.’

Dickie could read between the lines, and she didn’t like what she found there.

‘It’s not home if you’re not there, Gigi.’ She said firmly. They had slowed to a stop, by the crossroads to the bridge to the Money Bin. Goldie paused, the engine still whirring.

‘I’m never going to be welcome here,’ she admitted eventually, her voice almost lost on the air.

Dickie scoffed. ‘Since when has that ever stopped you? Look I know Grandpa said some horrible things. But he didn’t mean them - he’ll say sorry when we tell him the truth.’

‘No, he meant it.’ Goldie said, shaking her head. ‘See, that’s the difference between Scrooge and me, and your grandparents. _We_ have never been able to trust each other, not ever. We’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop whenever we’re around each other, and that isn’t ever going to change.’

‘You’re wrong.’ Dickie said. ‘He loves you. And you love him. You’ll work it out.’

Goldie just shook her head again. She didn’t have the energy to argue the point any more.

Dickie sighed, she was so frustratingly stupid sometimes. ‘Look, Gigi, do you want it to work out?’

Goldie laughed, bitterly. ‘You know, if you’d asked me that a couple of years ago I’d have laughed you out of the room.’

‘And now?’ Dickie asked, knowing the answer.

Goldie was quiet for a moment. Her silence was heavy, and much as she wanted to deny it she just couldn’t get the words to come out. Eventually she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and admitted the truth.

‘Yes. I do.’ She said, her voice no more than a whisper. The confession hung there for a moment, taunting her with its possibilities. Then she shook herself, hard, and her mask was back on. ‘But it doesn’t matter what I want.’

‘You’re _wrong_.’ Dickie said, again. ‘Oh Gigi, it’s the only thing that really matters.’

Goldie couldn’t bring herself to say anything more. She couldn’t look at Dickie again. She simply snapped her visor down and kicked the bike back into gear, and together they sped off across the bridge towards the Money Bin.

 

 

Donald and Mrs Beakley both returned to the mansion a few hours after Dickie and Goldie had left. Back from St Canard and nursing a pretty significant hangover, Donald was just unlocking the door to his boat when he saw Beakley heading toward the back door and into the house. She looked like she’d had a hell of a mission, and that usually meant she was heading straight to the kitchen to fix herself a hearty home cooked snack. Donald was not one to turn down such an opportunity, so he forgot about his hammock and trotted after her, set on making sure he was around for leftovers.

As a result, he and Mrs Beakley entered the kitchen at pretty much the same time and were met by a gaggle of desperate children.

‘Uncle Donald! Mrs Beakley! Thank goodness you’re back!’ The kids were upon them immediately, Webby clutching at the hem of her granny’s skirt and the triplets practically climbing on Donald.

‘What in the world - what’s happened?’ Beakley demanded upon seeing their stricken faces.

‘It’s Uncle Scrooge,’ Huey said. ‘He’s locked himself in his study and he won’t come out!’

‘We thought he was just mad, but he’s been in there for hours, he won’t even answer the door!’ Louie added.

‘What did you do this time?’ Donald asked, exasperatedly.

‘Us?’ Dewey looked insulted. ‘We didn’t do anything! He just stormed off as soon as they left and locked himself in his room. Webby climbed into the vents to get a better look...’

‘He’s just sitting in his chair, staring at the wall.’ Webby finished for him. ‘He hasn’t moved! It’s really bad this time!’

Donald and Mrs Beakley looked at each other, the both of them knowing full well that with all of them present and accounted for, there was only person left who could have sent Scrooge into such an emotional tailspin.

They both sighed, and at they same time they asked;

‘What did Goldie do now?’

 

 

Donald drew the short straw. His complete lack of culinary ability twinned with the fact that the kids hadn’t eaten for a whole day, meant that Mrs Beakley claimed dinner duty and he had to trudge upstairs to try to get through to Scrooge.

He stood outside the door for a good five minutes before he mustered the will to knock.

There was silence on the other side.

He knocked again. And again. And a third time. Until there came a grumbled ‘ _GO_ _AWAY_ ’ from the other side of the door.

There was nothing else for it. Calling on his every instinct and all of his combined Duck and McDuck family genes, Donald worked himself up to full rage and let himself loose on the door handle, twisting and turning and shaking until at last the whole thing snapped off in his hand and the door swung open.

Donald stepped through it, closing the door gently behind him, and clearing his throat politely as though he hadn’t just nearly ripped the door of its hinges.

‘Uncle Scrooge,’ he said casually, in greeting.

‘Donald,’ Scrooge replied darkly from his chair across the room. He didn’t look up.

Donald sighed. This was going to be tough.

He crossed the room to the desk and pulled out the chair beside it, so he could set it opposite - yet at a safe distance from - his uncle.

‘The kids told me what happened,’ he started.

‘Oh, did they?’ Scrooge asked, his voice oddly light. ‘That’s a stroke of luck. Perhaps you could explain it to me then.’

Donald swallowed, heavily. He felt like he was treading water with a great white shark.

‘Well, they told me Goldie was here. And there was a girl with her.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And that the girl is apparently, somehow, your granddaughter.’ Donald let out a breath when he’d gotten the words out.

‘Somehow, is it?’ Scrooge narrowed his eyes, dangerously.

‘Webby said Goldie had said there was an explanation. She didn’t get as far as telling you what that explanation was.’

‘There’s only one explanation there can be.’

Donald scoffed, and Scrooge glared at him. Remembering himself, Donald schooled his features, but the scoff still stood.

‘Please, in our family?’ Donald shook his head. ‘There’s a million and one explanations and you know it.’

‘And in all of them, I have a child somewhere I have never known, that she kept from me all these years. And a granddaughter too. If they really are mine.’

‘Oh, that was the other thing.’ Donald said, slapping his forehead as though something had just come back to him.

‘What was?’ Scrooge snapped.

‘Webby said you said some things to Goldie that she figured you would now be regretting pretty hard.’ Donald said, eyeing his uncle shrewdly. He knew if he’d been gone much longer, there would be a tower of empty pizza boxes lining the wall of his office.

Scrooge stared at the wall, the events of the day running over and over in his mind. The wetness that welled in his eyes spilled over and a single tear cut a path across his beak. He didn’t seem to notice, and Donald pretended not to either.

‘I thought things were really going to be different this time,’ Scrooge admitted quietly. Then his brow furrowed and he got angry at himself for even saying it out loud. He blinked and shook off his treacherous emotions. ‘ _Stupid_. I’m an old fool. She’ll never change.’

‘You’re both old fools,’ Donald agreed. ‘She wears it better.’

‘You’re dancing dangerously close to disinheritance, Donald.’ Scrooge warned.

‘Things are different, Scrooge. She came here. She shared this with you - or she tried to. And then you had an argument and she ran away, again, because the more things change the more they stay the same. This is your _thing_ , the two of you. This is what you do.’

‘And what am I supposed to do now?’

‘What you always do,’ Donald said with a shrug. ‘You go after her.’

Scrooge opened his mouth to object, and as he did so something like thunder rumbled in the distance, and a second later the house shook like there had been an earthquake.

Donald and Scrooge looked at each other, and then as one they leapt up and raced to the window.

Smoke rose up in a coil beyond the city, twisting into the sky.

Something had just exploded at the Money Bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE TEAM UNCLE - I don’t know if you knew that? :D 
> 
> These ducks drive me CRAZY. They are so so dumb. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and sticking with me! The comments brighten my day! 
> 
> And if you’re on tumblr feel free to swing by and say hi. I’m @iamthehousethatfloats ;)


	12. Chapter 12

Goldie was on a mission. She’d broken into the Money Bin a hundred times, but never with such fervour and relish as this. She left Dickie to hide the bike among some rocks at the water’s edge and waltzed brazenly into the garage, blowing a kiss at the security cameras as she went, blasted her way through a hidden side door and slid down the spiral banister into the basement, where she hacked into the lab with ease.

Gyro Gearloose was hunched over a workbench at the far side of the lab. When the doors slid open and revealed Goldie, grappling gun in her hand and a glint in her eye, he leapt up and immediately reached for the phone that would alert Scrooge and the security staff to the break in. Quick as a flash Goldie aimed her grappling gun at the phone and demolished it before he even got close.

‘Hello again, Screwloose,’ she said, with a grin.

‘What do you want?’ Gyro’s eyes narrowed. His experience with Goldie O’Gilt was limited and usually ended with something being stolen. Her interest was usually jewels and gold though, his lab had never been her target before.

‘Gyro!’ A new voice piped up behind Goldie and a girl bounded in, her wild blonde hair bouncing in her wake. He had never seen a grin so bright, pointed in his direction. It was extremely disconcerting.

‘Who are you?’ He asked, doubly suspicious. The girl kept grinning, though the light dimmed just a little in her eyes. It was weird that Gyro even noticed it. He never cared to notice things about people.

‘This is Dickie,’ Goldie supplied. ‘And _this_ , is a vortex manipulator. It’s for travelling in time, and, on occasion, relative dimensions in space.

She placed it on the table before them with a flourish, and Gyro regarded it, and her dryly.

‘Do you think I’m an idiot? I know what a vortex manipulator is.’ He said, rolling his eyes dramatically. ‘What exactly is one doing in my laboratory?’

‘We need you to fix it,’ Dickie piped up. ‘You’re the only one who can.’

‘Of course I am. But why should I?’

Dickie grinned. ‘Because we asked nicely?’

Gyro glared, thoroughly unimpressed.

‘Also,’ Goldie added, ‘because I left a trail of dynamite behind me all the way here and if you don’t help us, I’m going to blow your lab and half the Money Bin to smithereens.’

‘Oh yeah, that too.’

‘Wait - what? Why would you do that?!’ Gyro demanded, his eyes flying to the ceiling, painfully aware that it’s integrity depended very much on that of the floors above them.

‘Because Scrooge pissed me off.’ Goldie answered, grimly. ‘Now, be a good genius and help a girl out, would you?’

Dickie bounded over to Gyro’s side, pulling the manipulator towards them and popping open the casing. Despite himself, Gyro couldn’t help his eyes lighting up in interest.

‘Wait - this is...’

‘Yep.’

‘But why...’

‘Because shadows.’

‘Shadows?’

‘You know how when a shadow vortex inconveniently takes over your town and you need to co-opt an existing vortex in order to shift the balance in your favour? The inter dimensional vortex is the only thing stronger than shadows and so by shifting the polarity this way...’

‘Exactly what my shadow control ray does - it’s a prototype but it works off the same basic principle.’

‘I know, and I managed to get this far but the moment it captures a shadow, it destabilises and disperses pretty much immediately. We need it to linger a bit longer in its semi-corporeal form, you know?’

‘Why?’

‘So we can anchor the shadow of a lost little girl back in the physical realm and save the day. But we can’t do that without you.’

‘Of course you can’t, this circuitry is a mess,’ Gyro grumbled. ‘But if you cut it here and redirect this way...’

Goldie’s eyes glazed over as Dickie and Gyro geeked out over wiring and circuitry. She couldn’t quite picture how this girl was somehow the product of her and Scrooge - they were both smart, but they were generally less intense about it. She reasoned whoever her father was - he must have been a serious nerd to have overpowered the McDuck and O’Gilt genes to this extent.

Goldie turned her attention to the rest of the lab, where half finished inventions and blueprints were strewn across every surface. She remembered why she’d never stolen anything from this place before - she could never find anything worth taking.

After what seemed like hours, it looked like they were finally getting somewhere. The two of them bickered and clashed every other sentence and Goldie couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps Dickie really was enough to tame the mad scientist in this world too.

‘Done?’ Goldie asked, when Dickie grinned at her victoriously. She nodded, and Goldie reached into her pocket for a lighter. Gyro’s eyes widened and he leapt to stop her but it was too late, Goldie tossed the flame toward the door where it set light to a trail of gunpowder that quickly ignited.

A few seconds later, there was an explosion at the Money Bin. 

 

 

Later, when the dust had finally cleared, Scrooge was the first to appear, flanked by his quartet of tiny adventure companions as per usual, with Beakley and Donald bringing up the rear.

‘Goldie! What in the blazes did you do to Gyro’s lab?’ Scrooge demanded, with fire in his eyes.

‘It was like this when I found it, honest,’ Goldie said, her trademark snark at full force.

Then Scrooge noticed what she was holding.

‘What are you doing with a Vortex Manipulator?’ He asked, placing a warning hand on Dewey’s shoulder, the one most likely to dive into a dangerous question without forethought.

Goldie shrugged. ‘Solving mysteries and rewriting history Scrooge, the usual.’ She glanced at Dickie, who was digging around in her bag for her phone. She finally found it and as soon as she whipped it out, she opened up the voice notes and started to play Poe’s incantation.

The moment it began to play, Webby jerked and stumbled forward, her own shadow twisting and contorting.

‘Woah - what’s happening?’ She sounded far too enthusiastic about the prospect of imminent peril.

Goldie simply flicked a switch and slammed her hand down on the manipulator, while Gyro dived for cover behind them.

Then Webby, and her shadow, started to glow a kind of neon pinkish purple.

Scrooge stepped forward to grab at her arm, but nothing he did stopped her shadow from writhing and warping and splitting in two over their heads.

Goldie quickly set the vortex device aside and stepped in to slice the shadows apart with a knife that seemed to be made from reflections and smoke.

The moment it was cut free, the second shadow twisted and squirmed, struggling to maintain anything like a solid form. But then, just for a moment, it became the silhouette of a young girl. Almost everyone present noticed and recognised her, and the moment he did Scrooge dropped Webby’s hand and stepped forward, unconsciously.

‘Lena?’ He questioned the air. Webby just stared, dumbfounded.

‘Go, Dickie - now,’ Goldie hissed, nudging the girl into action. Dickie pulled the bracelet from her pocket and dove for the shadowy shape, snapping the thing around her wrist and tying it tightly. The moment it was done, she moved out of the way, and a scared, scrambling figure was left in her wake, still glowing faintly.

The whole lab was silent.

Webby was the first to break it.

‘LENA!’ She cried, hurling herself on her lost friend with all the enthusiasm of an overexcited puppy.

Scrooge just stared at Goldie and Dickie, his jaw slack. ‘What in the - how did you - _you two did this_?’ He was lost for words.

‘Gyro helped. A little.’ Dickie supplied, grinning as the madcap inventor dragged himself to his feet and summoned enough sense of self to look disgruntled. In his opinion, he had helped rather a lot.

Meanwhile, somewhere within the all-encompassing affection of Webby Vanderquack, the girl named Lena struggled to the surface, gasping for air. The poor thing didn’t seem to know who, or where she was, and Webby stared up at the adults, not knowing what to do.

Mrs Beakley stepped forward, and in all the confusion there something about the woman that Lena recognised. She cried out, and threw herself at the ankles of Scrooge’s housekeeper, clutching at her skirts and sobbing helplessly. Beakley immediately dropped to the ground and gathered the child in her arms, holding her tightly to her. Lena latched onto what was familiar, and when Webby returned tentatively to hug her too, this time she didn’t pull away. The boys shifted uncomfortably, torn between wanting their own reunion with Lena and knowing just how badly she would make them suffer for witnessing her emotional outburst when she got her head back on straight.

Goldie just watched, exhausted but undeniably relieved. Dickie, meanwhile, practically bounced for joy and bounded all the way over to Gyro, hugging him tightly.

Gyro flailed around and looked to Goldie and Scrooge for help. Neither gave it. In fact, both seemed to rather relish the moment.

‘I know you have no idea who I am,’ Dickie said, grinning widely, ‘but in another world you saved my life. So... thanks.’

Gyro swallowed, heavily. He was not accustomed to such extreme amounts of physical contact from strange girls who broke into his lab.

‘Uh... you’re... welcome?’ He stuttered, awkwardly. 

‘Oh, also we’re best friends.’

‘ _What_?!’

Scrooge cleared his throat and took a hesitant step closer to the woman beside him.

‘Goldie - I...’ he trailed off, unsure of where to even start. But Goldie just shook her head and stepped further away. She did not want to deal with him right now, not when the emotional stakes in the room were as high as they were. She was suddenly utterly, impossibly exhausted. She just wanted to slip away and sleep for a week.

Webby, however, had other ideas. She finally tore herself away from Lena, who had now quietened in Beakley’s arms, and took a running leap to throw herself at Goldie.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’ She squeaked, hugging her so tightly Goldie choked a little bit and Webby loosened her iron grip, grinning apologetically.

‘You promised you’d help and you did it! I can’t believe it. This is amazing!’

Goldie couldn’t help but laugh at the tiny girl’s overexcited outbursts. The pitch of her voice was so high, if she kept up like this at such proximity to Goldie’s ears she really was going to become one of those old grandmothers with a hearing aid.

‘I told you I had a contact who knew all about Shadow Magic,’ she reminded Webby, nodding to Dickie who had finally let go of Gyro. ‘It’s Dickie you should thank really, she did most of the hard work.’

‘Hi,’ Dickie waved, and then immediately regretted it when Webby leapt from Goldie to Dickie, latching onto the tall girl without touching the ground once.

‘I’m Webby!’ She declared, hugging Dickie tightly.

‘Yeah, I got that,’ the tall teenager chuckled. ‘And that’s your friend Lena, huh?’ 

Webby nodded, furiously. ‘And that’s my Granny, and, we’ll you know the boys, and that’s Donald -‘

Dickie spluttered and did a double take.

‘Donald?! But you’re so _old_!’

Donald looked so offended, Dickie slapped her forehead knowing she’d said the wrong thing once again.

‘Sorry, I don’t mean - it’s just, in my world the last time I saw you and Della - well, you were a little bit younger than me. I keep forgetting time is different here. Everything is different here!’

‘In your world?’ Scrooge finally found his voice, and latched onto the one bit of hope that he’d finally been given. Vortex manipulators, time travel, other worlds... could he really have been so completely off base in his assumptions?

Dickie nodded, and pointed at Goldie and then herself.

‘I’m from an alternate universe where you and her got married in the gold rush and had a kid and that kid had a kid and that kid’s kid is me.’

Scrooge’s jaw dropped and he turned red, unable to stop his own hateful words from earlier in the day from repeating over and over in his mind. Again, he had assumed the worst of her and it has come back to bite him. After everything they’d been through last year, how could he have been so stupid?

‘Well, why didn’t you just say that in the first place?’ He demanded, almost accusingly. He was so flustered he didn’t know which of them to aim it at. Especially because his anger really didn’t deserve to be aimed at anyone other than himself.

‘Because _she_ lives for the drama.’ Dickie replied, rolling her eyes.

Goldie and Scrooge’s eyes locked and something unspoken passed between them. It was a promise of something, though whether good or bad, neither could know. Scrooge offered a hopeful half smile at Dickie’s joke, but Goldie didn’t return it.

‘M-mister McDuck?’ A small voice broke through the spell and Scrooge realised it was Lena. He tore his eyes from Goldie and turned his attention to the younger teenager in the room.

‘Lena,’ he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw recognition in the girl’s eyes. He dropped down onto a knee and laid a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but it appeared more of a reflex than anything. ‘Lassie, are you alright?’

‘I... I think so,’ she said, lifting her newly corporeal arms uncertainly and noticing the bracelet on her wrist. ‘What... what happened?’

‘When Magica cast her spell on you, the power of our friendship bracelets must have saved you!’ Webby explained, sliding down Dickie like a fireman’s pole and scrambling over to her friend. ‘You we’re stuck in my shadow, but Goldie and Dickie got you out! I don’t know exactly how...’

‘That’s a story for another time, I think,’ Dickie said, not wanting to get too into the weeds of their adventures until she’d had a decent night’s sleep.

‘You’re Dickie?’ Lena asked, confused.

‘Yeah, she’s Scrooge’s granddaughter from an alternate reality!’ Webby babbled as Scrooge’s eyes went wide at first, then he realised how entirely normal that sounded. ‘And Goldie - wait, where is Goldie?’

Scrooge’s heart suddenly sunk, as he looked around and realised she wasn’t there. She’d gone, again. And he hadn’t even figured out how to begin to apologise yet.

Dickie saw the stricken look on her grandfather’s face and snapped into action.

‘I think I know where she is,’ she quickly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go get her.’ 

‘Wait, er - Dickie, are you sure that I -‘ Scrooge stuttered, still unsure of how exactly to address the girl who’d shown up out of the blue and turned his world upside down.

‘You stay here with the kids, I’ll be right back,’ Dickie called over her shoulder. ‘Trust me, I know where she is!’

‘I’m afraid I do too,’ Scrooge grumbled, thinking of all the things there were to steal in the Money Bin. One full blooded O’Gilt was bad enough, but with Dickie added to the mix too he couldn’t help but fear the worst. He hurried after her, stopping her in the doorway.

‘Just... you’ll come back? There’s so much I need to... well, we have a lot to talk about, you and I.’

‘Don’t worry Grandpa, I’m not going anywhere,’ Dickie promised, leaning to kiss his cheek quickly. ‘And neither is Gigi, if I have anything to do with it.’

Scrooge was left stunned, as this new member of his family ran off after the one who refused to believe she was a part of it too.

Dickie hurried up to the top floor of the Money Bin, where she and Goldie had stood only a year ago and the last tattered traces of her old life had fallen apart.

She lingered by the door to the Bin itself. She thought for a moment about going in, but she knew Goldie wasn’t in there. Instead, she resisted the urge and continued down the hall toward Scrooge’s office, where the door to his secret safe was open.

Goldie stood in the middle of the gloomy room, staring at the shelves. They were stacked with old ledgers, faded maps, adventure supplies and endless newspapers.

No lock boxes. No greatest treasure. Nothing was the same here, she’d said it herself. And she was glad of it, it made everything easier.

‘Gigi? You okay?’ Dickie lingered hesitantly in the doorway.

Goldie blinked and wiped at her face, suddenly aware of her granddaughter’s presence.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, not sounding fine at all. ‘I just had to step out for a second. Sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Dickie shrugged, leaning against the door. ‘But I think everyone’s had enough excitement for one day. Why don’t you come back down and we can go home?’

Goldie laughed. ‘Home?’ She asked.

‘Yes, home,’ Dickie repeated, firmly. ‘We’re going home to McDuck Manor, you and me.’

‘Scrooge doesn’t want me there,’ Goldie shook her head. ‘I told you Dickie, I told you it was different here.’

Dickie nodded, seriously. ‘Yes, in your defence, you did warn me that the two of you were not the same here,’ she permitted.

‘Exactly.’

‘What you failed to mention,’ Dickie continued, ‘is that the two of you are CHILDREN.’ Goldie glared, but didn’t defend against it. ‘You’re idiots, and you love each other, and sure you’re in a fight right now because Grandpa said something dumb and he needs to make up for that but he also needs to look after that girl downstairs, so for now we’re going to go back with them, change our clothes, get some sleep, and we’ll figure out what the heck comes next in the morning.’

Goldie sighed, turning to face her at last. Dickie did not miss the redness around her eyes or the tear tracks down her face. Goddamnit Grandpa, she thought to herself.

‘You know, before you came along I never used to have to answer to anyone,’ Goldie commented.

Dickie grinned. ‘Well, you had a good run. But now I’m here, and it’s time to go home.’

She reached for Goldie’s hand, and after a moment of consideration Goldie took it and allowed Dickie to lead her back downstairs, back to the lab, and Scrooge’s family, and reality and emotions and difficult conversations and judgement and who knew what else.

Well, this was going to be fun.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Turns rating up* 
> 
> *Pulls pin out of Scroldie grenade* 
> 
> *Runs for cover*

Goldie and Dickie rode behind the limo back to McDuck Manor. Scrooge had tried to suggest they leave the bike behind, seeing as there was plenty of room in the car, but Goldie ignored him and returned to the shore to uncover it, beckoning Dickie to join her.

Dickie shrugged apologetically at Scrooge, but followed Goldie all the same. At least this way, he could be sure that she would actually come back. Dickie seemed to hold some sway over Goldie’s fight or flight instinct, and Scrooge had to put some trust in that. It was all he could do.

In the absence of Launchpad, Donald took the wheel, and Scrooge and Mrs Beakley sat Lena between them in the back seat. As soon as the car began to move, the teenager drifted off into an exhausted sleep, her head lolling against Scrooge’s shoulder until he shifted and carefully manoeuvred so that she could rest her head in his lap. Mrs Beakley kept a reassuring hand on her hip and Webby crouched in the footwell between the grown ups’ feet, where she could watch the rise and fall of her friend’s peaceful breaths and reassure herself that after everything, she really was okay.

The boys still maintained a safe distance, focussing instead on the subject of their new cousin who they discussed in hushed voices. Scrooge pretended not to hear, even though all their questions were the same ones running through his mind.

Who was Dickie’s mother? Or indeed, her father? In this world or another, did he have a son or a daughter out there somewhere? Would he - could he - ever know them? Had Goldie met them, and kept that from him too?

Had he and Goldie been happy, in this other world? Dickie said they’d been married... the very thought. It was almost laughable. What had changed for them? At what point had their destiny taken a turn?

And what had happened to them, that meant that Dickie was here now?

The thought that ran first and foremost though, was one that hadn’t left Scrooge’s mind since he and Goldie had returned from Cape Suzette last year. Things had changed, in that week. Changed for the better, or so he’d thought. Indeed, since she had left him that time, barely a week had passed where they hadn’t spoken - mostly texts and Wadd’s App messages, but sometimes they actually spoke on the phone. He told her he loved her, regularly, and she often returned the sentiment - though usually it was accompanied by something cutting or rude to lower the tone, which he tended not to mind. After Cape Suzette, he’d thought they’d cracked that code at last, he thought she knew how he felt and had finally accepted it. But the look on her face today said otherwise, it seemed she’d only _let herself_  believe it. Now, her doubts had crept back in with full force and he had hammered a nail in that coffin with his senseless remarks earlier that day.

Scrooge closed his eyes tightly and let out a measured sigh, trying with all his might to keep it together. Donald and Mrs Beakley’s eyes met in the rear view mirror, as they both saw him start to waver and lose control.

‘I thought I’d open up the blue room on the second floor,’ Mrs Beakley suddenly said, shaking Scrooge from his downward spiral and causing him to turn his head to her, brow furrowed in confusion. ‘For Dickie,’ she elaborated. ‘It’s far enough from the rest of the house that she’ll have her own space, but near enough that we’ll hear if she needs anything. It’s where I put all the hundreds of clothes Goldie left behind last time, so she’ll have something to wear at least. And it’s a nice view out over the grounds, too.’

Scrooge nodded. ‘Whatever you think is best,’ he agreed, absently. Lena shifted and sniffled a little in his lap, and Scrooge instinctively laid a gentle hand on her head, smoothing out her pink streaked hair. He wondered, briefly, if some version of him had done this for Dickie. Or for his own forgotten child. He was faced, suddenly with a lifetime of missed opportunity, and somewhere at the edge of all that he found himself thinking of Della, who was the only other little girl he’d ever held like this.

How could he be trusted to take care of them? Of Dickie and Lena and Webby... After what he’d let happen to Della? The thought suddenly struck him that Dickie had known Donald and Della in her world. What had happened to his niece there? Had he lost her there too? The thought was too much to bear. It was all his fault, whatever the universe, it was all his fault.

‘McDuck,’ Beakley said, quietly. For a moment she wasn’t Mrs Beakley, she was Agent 22. Scrooge stared up at her with bleary eyes, and blinked, trying to focus. The boys took a sudden interest in the scenery outside the window and Webby ducked down low and out of sight.

‘Buck up, Scrooge,’ Beakley continued, her voice kind but firm. ‘Lena is here, and Goldie and Dickie are coming home too. Your family are all here with you, you can’t fall apart now.’

‘Not all of them,’ Scrooge couldn’t help but whisper, and in the front seat Donald kept his eyes staunchly on the road in front of him.

‘No, not all of them,’ Beakley agreed. ‘But plenty to be getting on with.’

Scrooge nodded and Beakley pretended not to notice the redness around his eyes as he cleared his throat and covered it with a cough.

For the rest of the journey, he occupied himself with Lena, and Webby, and tried hard to keep his own thoughts from straying too far into the shadows.

 

 

When they got back to the mansion, everyone went straight to bed. Mrs Beakley quickly freshened up the blue room for Dickie, and as soon as she had a window of opportunity Goldie disappeared into it without a word to anyone else. Dickie watched her go, awkwardly. She didn’t want to follow, but she didn’t know what else to do, so with a little half wave to Scrooge, Webby and the boys, she headed after her Grandmother and shut the door softly behind them.

Scrooge felt his heart constrict in his chest as he watched them both slip away. He hadn’t expected Goldie to want to stay with him, not after what he’d said, but it still hurt to be faced with the confirmation of his assumptions.

He had really messed up this time.

 

 

Lena had woken up as they’d pulled into the driveway, more lucid and aware than she had been earlier.

Webby was practically vibrating with excitement, and it was taking every bit of self control she had to keep her from leaping on Lena at every possible available moment.

When Mrs Beakley asked her if she wanted her own room, Lena just looked down at her feet and said she’d prefer to share with Webby again if it was all the same, at least for now. That sent Webby over the edge and the little girl threw herself at her friend, latching tightly around her waist like she might never let go.

‘It’ll be like the best sleepover ever!’ She exclaimed, hugging her tightly. ‘Everything’s going to be okay now Lena, I promise.’

Lena smiled, and patted Webby’s head. ‘Thanks Pink, you’ve always got my back.’

The boys finally dared approach them, and Lena opened her arms and let them all hug her as one.

‘We’re glad you’re okay, Lena,’ Huey said, on behalf of all three of them.

‘Yeah, we missed you around here,’ Louie agreed.

‘Breaking into places we’re not supposed to be is significantly harder without you around.’ Dewey nodded.

‘Come on boys, it’s late and it’s been a big day for everyone,’ Donald interrupted, ushering the triplets away and off toward their room. ‘Lena will still be here in the morning.’

‘Night guys!’ Webby waved, merrily, as Scrooge and Beakley nudged the girls toward their room.

Webby was ready for bed in moments, so excited to have a companion in the bunk bed below hers. She hung over the edge while Mrs Beakley found Lena a t-shirt to sleep in, and Scrooge helped her pull back the covers on the bed.

‘What about the lady who brought me back?’ Lena asked Scrooge, when he sat on the end of her bed, averting his eyes while Lena shrugged into the t-shirt. ‘Who is she?’

Scrooge flushed red, unsure how they had gotten to this point of contention so quickly. Beakley pretended not to have heard the question, and both Lena and Webby just stared expectantly at Scrooge so that in the end he had to answer it.

‘Goldie... is someone I’ve known for a very long time.’ He said eventually. ‘She’s a part of our lives now.’ He hesitated, then continued. ‘But...well, she’s not very happy with me at the moment so I’m not sure how much longer she’ll stay.’

Beakley scoffed and Webby frowned, and Lena looked up at them both, then at Scrooge’s heart broken face, confused. She’d seen that look on his face before, he looked like Magica could defeat him pretty easily right now.

‘Is she... I mean, are you in love with her or something?’ She asked, as the pieces fell into place.

Scrooge nodded, surprising himself with his honesty in front of the teenager. ‘Aye, I am.’ It wasn’t like he could deny it.

‘And what about the girl, Webby said she was your granddaughter.’

‘Yes!’ Webby piped up. ‘Dickie is so cool! She’s from an alternate universe.’

Lena look this in and despite the situation, she couldn’t help but laugh a little. ‘Huh. I turn my back for a second and your family gets even more complicated,’ she remarked.

‘That it did.’ Scrooge agreed with a wry, sad smile. ‘Are you sure you still want in?’

‘I mean, if there’s space.’ Lena looked suddenly uncertain. ‘Things sure have changed since I was here before, I’d understand if you changed your mind...’

Scrooge shook his head, cutting her off. ‘I promised you that if you helped me get my family back, you’d have a place in it.’ He said, firmly. ‘I’m a man of my word, Lena. And that sentiment hasn’t changed one bit.’

Lena was quiet for a moment, and then she looked down at the blanket twisted up in her hands, nervously.

‘Listen, I never got the chance to say... well, I’m sorry about everything. The dime, and Aunt Magica, and... well...’

‘Lena, please,’ Scrooge interrupted her, holding up a hand to stop her words. ‘It’s forgotten. All of it. The important thing is that you’re safe, and you’re back with us, where you belong.’

‘You really mean that, Mr McDuck?’ Lena asked, her voice oddly small.

Scrooge smiled, and leaned down to tuck her into the bed properly - something Lena had never experienced in her strange, half life. It made her feel warm all the way to her feet.

‘Call me Uncle Scrooge,’ he said, planting a kiss on her head as she sank deep into the fluffy pillows. Lena blinked up at him, and as she drifted off again into sleep all she felt was safe, and loved. It was something she had never felt before.

When he saw that Lena had drifted off, Scrooge stepped back from the bed only for Webby to throw herself at him, her bandy arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

‘I love you, Uncle Scrooge,’ she said, hugging him tightly. ‘You’re the best.’

Scrooge was unprepared for the ocean of emotion that flooded through his veins, and it was all he could do to grip his cane in his free hand to keep himself standing upright when he brought his other hand up to rest lightly on Webby’s back as he held her to him.

‘And I you, Webby darlin,’ he said, sincerely. ‘I truly don’t deserve you.’

Webby gave him one last squeeze, and then let him carry her back to the bunk bed and give her a boost back up to the top bunk.

‘You’ll look after Lena, and shout for me or your grandmother if anything happens?’ Scrooge ensured, as Webby wriggled under the covers and pulled them up to her chin.

‘Sure I will, you can count on me, Uncle Scrooge!’

Scrooge leaned in to kiss Webby goodnight too, and her eyes were fluttering closed even as he did so. It really had been a very long day. He stepped back and glanced at Mrs Beakley, who was watching him closely. He tried to look as casual and unconcerned as possible as he stepped past her toward the door. She took a moment to bid the girls goodnight and then she followed him out.

‘Where’s Goldie?’ She asked, as soon as they stepped out into the corridor.

‘Dickie’s room.’ He answered quickly, but his gruff voice cracked even as he spoke and he glared internally.

‘Scrooge...’ she started, but he cut her off.

‘Thank you, Beakley. I think I’ll go to bed now.’

She watched him go, padding softly down the hall to his own room where he slipped through the door and closed it behind him with a barely audible click. Mrs Beakley switched off the hallway light and when she did she noted the warm glow from under Scrooge’s door. She waited for a sign he’d actually gone to bed, but none came. After a while she finally resolved to leave him to his melancholy and took herself off to bed too.

 

 

The next morning, no one felt like getting up particularly early. It was Webby and Lena who surfaced first, sneaking out of their room around lunchtime and letting themselves into the boys room where the triplets were practically bouncing off the walls.

The boys and Webby filled Lena in on everything she had missed while she’d been away. Lena listened with varying degrees of disbelief at their wild adventures, and by the time they got to the tale of the last time Goldie had come to stay she nearly fell of her chair laughing as they recounted the horror of their failed dinner party.

‘It doesn’t sound like it was that much of a failure,’ Lena quipped, as Huey recounted the excessive amount of smooching that followed and Dewey and Louie turned green at the memory. Webby, however, positively glowed.

‘Of course it wasn’t a failure! It was fantastic. She’s Scrooge’s true love!’

‘So what’s the deal now then? Why’s she mad at him?’ Lena asked, confused.

‘Oh you know, turns out she was keeping Scrooge’s granddaughter from an alternate timeline secret this whole time, and so when she told him he got all mad and she got mad back and now they’re not speaking.’ Louie explained.

‘Usual couple stuff, you know.’ Dewey shrugged.

‘Yeah, well it isn’t just that,’ a voice interjected from the doorway. The kids all jumped and looked up to see Dickie hovering over the threshold. ‘Hi,’ she said, awkwardly.

‘Dickie!’ Webby leapt up, running over to take her hand and drag her into the room. ‘Come in, come in!’

‘Hey,’ Lena said as Dickie collapsed into a bean bag chair with Webby still hanging onto her arm. ‘I’m Lena. Thanks for, you know, saving me and stuff.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Dickie replied with a grin. ‘I’m glad you’re okay. Being stuck in a world of shadows isn’t fun - I should know.’

‘What do you mean?’ Webby piped up, frowning. Dickie sighed and without further ado, she launched into the whole story. Magica, the shadows, her mom and Goldie, Scrooge and his dime... all of it. The kids just listened with their jaws on the floor, and Lena looked horrified.

‘Wow,’ Dewey said, when she reached the end of her story. ‘Okay, and we thought our family was weird. You definitely win.’

‘Well, my family are all dead so I’ll stick with yours if it’s all the same.’

Dewey’s face fell. ‘Oh man, sorry I didn’t mean...’

‘It’s okay,’ Dickie assured him. ‘It was horrible, but Gigi got me out, and now I’m here with all of you and it’s like I’ve been given a second chance at a family, you know?’ As she said it, her eyes filled with tears and she pulled a face like she suddenly had a bad taste in her mouth. ‘Ugh, god - I feel like such an awful person saying that. It’s like I’m betraying my real family by wanting to be a part of this one. I hate it.’

‘You’re not an awful person,’ Lena was quick to point out. ‘You’re just a person. It’s okay.’

Dickie looked around at all of their nodding faces and breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time in a very long time, she felt the embrace of understanding and acceptance that only came from family.

‘So what’s the deal with your crazy old grandparents?’ Lena asked, her eyes narrowing. ‘From what these guys were saying, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other the last time they were together. How bad was this fight, anyway?’

Dickie and Webby both pulled the same face.

‘It was pretty bad,’ Webby admitted.

Dickie nodded. ‘Gigi is the most dramatic person you will ever meet. She needs to make an entrance, you know? So instead of sitting Grandpa down and calmly explaining to him that there’s a girl waiting outside who isn’t technically actually his granddaughter but sort of is because of time travel and alternate universes and all that stuff, which he’d actually have understood, she just flounced in, pulled the pin out of the grenade and then got pissy when it blew up in her face.’

‘That’s actually a very accurate description of events,’ Huey agreed.

‘Yeah, but then Uncle Scrooge, who is the _grumpiest_ person _we_ know, immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion and got all mad and said some really mean things and it made everything even worse.’ Louie added.

‘Oh man, what did he say?’ Lena groaned.

The boys all looked at each other, as though silently debating which one of them should say it. Webby rolled her eyes.

‘He thought that Goldie had been keeping Dickie a secret from him this whole time, and that she’d kept her mom secret from him too, and he got really mad about it and then said that maybe the reason she didn’t tell him was because she couldn’t be sure he was the father anyway.’

‘Yeah, he basically slut shamed her and accused her of sleeping around and, well, it didn’t go down well.’ Dickie said.

The boys looked scandalised by Dickie’s frank assessment. Lena just rolled her eyes and shrugged.

‘Honestly, we’re living in a soap opera.’

‘I know, right?’ Dickie chuckled.

‘Yeah, exactly - right? _Totally_ ,’ Webby babbled, doing her best to keep up with the two elder girls. Lena chuckled and slung her arm around the younger girl’s shoulders, hugging her to her side. Webby hugged her back.

‘So, what are we going to do?’ Dewey asked, suddenly.

‘Do?’ Dickie frowned.

‘Not another dinner party,’ Lena commented, quickly.

‘Okay, you have to let that go,’ Huey insisted. ‘But seriously, they aren’t talking. That’s not okay. Goldie could run off at any time and Scrooge is too damn stubborn to go after her.’

‘We have to take a stand. Make them see sense.’ Dewey agreed.

‘What, like an intervention?’ Lena joked.

‘Yes!’ Dewey bounced up and down. ‘It’s the only way. The six of us take a stand, they have to listen. Goldie will listen to you Dickie, and Webby too. And Scrooge will have to listen to us. We can’t just let them mess it up all over again.’

‘And they will, if we leave them to their own devices,’ Dickie agreed. ‘I mean, my grandparents were happily married for over a hundred years and still they would fight like anything when given half the chance.’

For the rest of the afternoon, the kids stayed locked in the boys room, plotting and planning, and generally being the McDuck family. Dickie realised then just how much she had missed that family, even though none of these kids had been a part of hers.

 

 

Goldie didn’t emerge from Dickie’s room all day. At first, Dickie figured she was just sleeping late, as she was wont to do, but when she popped her head in at three pm, and then again at five, and still found a heap of blankets curled up in the bed with her grandmother hidden somewhere within, she started to worry.

‘Gigi, it’s dinner time... don’t you want to eat something?’ She ventured, when she returned a third time and was met, once again, by a wordless grumble from beneath a mess of crumpled sheets.

Dickie sighed in defeat and trudged down to dinner where the kids looked up hopefully and she had to shake her head in quick and quiet dismissal. She sat between Scrooge and Donald and for the most part their conversation was awkward and forced - this grumpy, distracted old man wasn’t the grandfather she remembered. And the woman upstairs moping wasn’t her grandmother either. They came as a pair, even when they were apart, and Dickie just couldn’t resolve these lonely, messed up individuals as the people she knew and loved.

In the end, she ended up excusing herself early only to go up to bed and find that Goldie wasn’t even there. She panicked for a moment, but she could still see the motorbike out in the driveway, and all of her things were still strewn across the room. If she had run, she wouldn’t have left a trace. Dickie dug out her laptop and settled in bed, intent on distracting herself with the schoolwork she’d been avoiding for months instead of allowing her thoughts to linger on her crumbling faux family.

 

 

Goldie had slipped out when the sun had started to set. Since she’d slept all day, she found she was suddenly wide awake, and the clinkingof cutlery and hubbub of conversation that carried from downstairs made her feel sick to her stomach at the very thought of venturing down to join them.

Instead, she slipped out the window and shimmied down a drainpipe, a feat which was much more easily accomplished than it had been when she’d been there previously, with her broken bones and her strange new weakness of actually wanting to stay.

She wandered the grounds for a while, forcing her mind blank. She tried her best not to see the smouldering ruin of Dickie’s McDuck Manor when she looked back at the mansion, but it was hard not to. It was all still to play for here, that happy family life. She just couldn’t believe that she and Scrooge were capable of it.

Later, when the house had quietened, she risked venturing into the kitchen in search of something to eat. It had been over twenty four hours since she last had, after all. Her stomach was grumbling, but above all she just wanted to do something other than wandering around the house.

Goldie regretted stepping inside the moment she did. There, loading the dishwasher, was Beakley. Goldie began to back out again, but her foot betrayed her by stepping on a creaky floorboard and catching Beakley’s attention. She turned and her eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion, and Goldie held up her hands in a defensive, placating posture.

‘I’m not here to steal anything,’ she assured, only half joking. ‘Well, other than leftovers, if there are any going.’

Beakley glared, but she wasn’t going to give Duckworth any excuse to call her a sloppy host, so she took a plate from the cupboard and dished out some casserole before she packed it away.

Goldie took it gratefully, settling herself at the kitchen island and digging in. Beakley paused, watching her for a moment expectantly, but nothing came. There were no quips, or snide comments, in fact Goldie seemed to almost have forgotten that Beakley was there at all. Her eyes dimmed and she drifted off, lost in her own thoughts, that appeared to be as miserable and self deprecating as Scrooge’s.

Eventually, Beakley could bear it no long. She opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of gin. Goldie noticed, and frowned up at her, not quite able to compute what was happening. Beakley rolled her eyes.

‘Would you like a drink?’ She asked, shaking the bottle a little for emphasis.

‘With you?’ It wasn’t even scathing, her tone was one of genuine confusion.

‘Don’t be difficult.’ Beakley snapped. ‘Do you want a drink or not?’

‘I really, _really_ do.’ Goldie admitted, deflating slightly as the tension left her shoulders and she took down her walls. Beakley nodded, grimly, and took out two tumblers, a lime and a bucket of ice. 

‘Come on then, before I change my mind.’

 

 

An hour later, and Goldie’s forehead was on the table, her drink clutched tightly in her hands. Beakley was upright, entirely composed and sipping reservedly on her own drink.

‘He’s just so impossible,’ Goldie grumbled. ‘He’s always been the same.’

‘Whereas you are entirely reasonable,’ Beakley quipped.

‘I’m more reasonable than that old Sourdough,’ Goldie insisted. ‘You don’t know him like I do. You haven’t known him as long as I have.’

‘No, that’s very true.’ Beakley agreed, and she looked rather grateful for that fact. ‘I may not have known him in his youth, but I know him now. And I know that he _has_ changed. Taking in Donald and Della when he did, losing his sister the way he did, and then raising those twins only to lose Della and the rest of the family thereafter? Family is the most important thing to him now. More important than adventuring. More important than gold.’

‘More important than me,’ Goldie whispered, uncharacteristically unguarded. She stared into the bottom of her glass, forcing herself not to let her emotions betray her.

Beakley wasn’t fooled. She sighed, topped up her glass, and took a seat opposite Goldie who finally looked up.

‘You didn’t have to do what you did to bring Lena back.’ Beakley said, eventually. ‘You didn’t have to go to all that trouble. Why did you?’

Goldie shrugged, and reached for the bottle herself to pour out another decent measure of gin. She only added a splash of tonic, and so Beakley took it upon herself to top her up properly, for propriety’s sake.

‘Don’t avoid the question,’ she commented, as Goldie busied herself with her drink. ‘You didn’t have to, but you did. Why?’

Goldie sighed. ‘Because Webby asked me to,’ she said, shrugging again. ‘I like that kid, it’s not her fault she’s related to you. And I owed her a favour.’

‘And Dickie? When did she come into this?’

‘About a year ago.’ Goldie replied. ‘Believe me, Beakley, I’m as surprised as you are that I haven’t entirely messed that up just yet.’

‘I do wish you hadn’t kept that secret from him.’ Beakley admitted. ‘All this could have been avoided.’

‘I was kind of dealing with a lot last time I was here. It wasn’t at the top of my list.’

‘Alright, I’ll give you that.’ Beakley nodded. ‘You know, I’ve never liked you.’

Goldie snorted into her glass. ‘Don’t hold back for my sake, Bentina. Say what you really think.’

‘You show up out of the blue and every time you do, you turn Scrooge’s world upside down and I’m left to vacuum up the pieces. I’ve always known you cared about him, in your way, of course. But that never seemed to be enough. The last time you were here however, well, I did get the sense that something had finally changed for the better.’

‘It’s not that simple.’ Goldie sighed.

‘I know it isn’t. And I don’t wish to understand the complexities of you and Scrooge McDuck, believe me.’ Beakley looked slightly green at the thought.

‘Then what _do_ you want?’

‘A stable environment in which to raise my granddaughter to be the best version of herself that she can ever hope to be, in which she is safe, supported and loved as much as she deserves.’

‘Huh,’ Goldie laughed bitterly. ‘Well, I guess you and aren’t thinking so differently these days then.’

‘That is... extremely disconcerting.’

‘I know, right?’

It was an odd feeling, the two women finally on the same page. For a moment their eyes met and they smiled, and immediately both decided they had had plenty to drink for one evening.

‘Get some sleep,’ Beakley said, clearing their glasses away swiftly. ‘And tomorrow, for goodness sake, talk to the old fool.’

‘Thanks for the drink,’ Goldie said in response, and swept herself out of the kitchen without looking back.

 

 

On her way to Dickie’s room, Goldie noticed that Scrooge’s bedroom door was open. She couldn’t help it, she looked inside, only to find it empty.

She slipped through the door and lingered there for a moment, remembering the last time she had stood here. Her last visit was tainted with memories of everything that had come before it, but for the most part she just remembered feeling safe and happy and so very loved.

That had all gone now. She felt awkward and out of place, and if it wasn’t for Dickie she’d be long gone. She was a fool to think she and Scrooge could ever have something so normal as an actual relationship long term. They were both far too stubborn for that.

She turned, about to leave, when something caught her eye.

One of the drawers in Scrooge’s dresser was slightly open, and a hint of familiar fabric stuck out. Goldie glanced over her shoulder and stepped closer, tugging at the fabric of the nightgown he’d bought her the last time she was here. The green silk came loose easily, and when she held it to her she could still smell her perfume lingering on it. Curiosity peaked, she opened the drawer further. Inside were other items she’d favoured but left behind; faded jeans and a cream knitted sweater, a ring box, a grappling gun, some other trinkets and then, something else that made her breath freeze in her lungs.

There, in the drawer, in and amongst all the traces of her that Scrooge had hidden away, was a small, locked treasure box.

Goldie lifted it out, holding it lightly in her hand like it was something precious. For a moment she just relished the weight of it in her hand, and then she pulled a pin from her hair and set to work.

The lock clicked open just as easily as it had the last time, and Goldie carefully placed the box on top of the drawers and lifted the lid.

The deed to his claim at White Agony Creek. A gold nugget, the size of a goose egg. And a lock of golden hair tied with a red satin ribbon.

He had kept it. All of it. All these years, he had kept this box safe. His treasures. His reminders of her. Even though they weren’t together in this world, and hadn’t lived the life Dickie’s grandparents had. Still, he had kept it.

Goldie only realised she was crying when a fat, wet teardrop landed on the deed and caused the ancient ink to run. She hurriedly folded it up and put it back in the box so as not to damage it further, and then she heard a floorboard creak behind her.

She spun around, golden nugget in one hand and her own faded golden locks in the other, and found herself face to face with Scrooge.

‘Goldie, I - what are you doing?’

He glanced from the nugget, to the hair, back to Goldie’s face. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or embarrassed, and she didn’t care. She just tossed both treasures back the box and crossed the room in a single bound, hurling herself at him with such force that he staggered back against the door frame and had to brace himself against it to stay upright.

‘What the blazes...’ he sputtered, but Goldie didn’t let him finish. She grabbed his face and turned it to hers, and kissed him hard, swallowing down his objections until they stopped altogether and she felt his hands sliding up her back to pull her closer to him.

After an eternity, they finally broke apart - though only so they could catch a breath. Neither made any effort to create any distance between them other than that which was was completely necessary.

‘You kept it,’ Goldie whispered at last, her forehead resting lightly against his. ‘Even here, you kept it.’

Scrooge brought a hand up to run through her own mass of golden hair, twirling a lock around his fingers.

‘Of course I did,’ he murmured, kissing her again, softly. ‘My greatest treasure.’

Goldie kissed him back and held onto him so tightly she thought they might finally merge and become one being.

Scrooge reached blindly for the door and pushed it closed behind them. The slam made Goldie jump, and Scrooge seized his moment as she did and hitched his hands just under her rear, lifting her up to rock against him as her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist.

She gasped at the sudden friction between them, and Scrooge couldn’t help but groan into her mouth. Both were suddenly very glad to have foregone pants that morning, as Scrooge hiked up Goldie’s sweater dress and she fumbled to undo his belt.

He pushed into her in one movement, navigating with ease, and she cried out as he did so, clinging to his shoulders and grinding her hips into his as they lingered for a moment and savoured the feeling of being joined together again. At some point their kiss had broken apart, both of them panting, cheek to cheek, as they caught their breath. When she had adjusted to him sufficiently, Goldie pulled back and locked eyes with Scrooge, and then she began to move.

Scrooge’s head fell back as she rode him, and he thrust up into her as best he could at their present angle. Despite their enthusiasm they both knew neither of them could maintain this for long. Goldie tugged on Scrooge’s shoulder and he took the hint, spinning them around so that her back was flush against the wall.

‘Oh, that’s more like it,’ Goldie grinned, adjusting her grip on his shoulders and bracing herself more securely. Scrooge grinned back and buried his face in the soft feathers of her chest, preening and nuzzling her there as he pounded into her, deeper and with more certainty than he had been able to before.

‘Oh _god_ , Scrooge,’ Goldie gasped, holding his head to her chest and running her fingers through his whiskers.

‘I know,’ he managed through gritted teeth. The last time they had been together, they had made love in a way they never had before. She’d been hurt, and he’d been unsure, and as a result their senses had been overwhelmed with the depth of the feelings and emotions that had washed over them that night, igniting something that both had thought they’d lost forever over a century ago.

But this time, this was new all over again, in a different way. This was passionate and hard and more intense than either thought they could bear. Goldie felt like she was going to tear into pieces at any moment, Scrooge thought he might just explode and they both feared they would take the house down with them.

‘Goldie, I’m sorry...’ Scrooge said suddenly, the words spilling out of him. ‘What I said before... unforgivable...’

‘Not the time, Sourdough,’ Goldie hissed, as he hit a spot inside her that made her start to see stars.

‘I can’t... much longer...’ Scrooge managed to grind out. ‘Oh, Goldie girl - the way you _feel_... I’m going to...’

‘I know,’ Goldie breathed in his ear. She gasped as his hips began to jerk more violently, as he started to lose control. ‘I’m right here, Scrooge. Take me with you.’

Scrooge just managed to gather the wherewithal to slip a hand between them to the place where they were joined, and while he couldn’t be expected to summon the sense to do much once his fingers reached their destination their very presence was all the encouragement Goldie needed. The added pressure on her most sensitive parts sent her spasming around him and that sent Scrooge tumbling over the edge too. They cried out together as their orgasm hit, and Scrooge’s knees buckled beneath him as he slammed into her in the throes of his final thrusts. It was all he could do to brace himself against the doorframe and crush himself against Goldie’s welcoming bosom to keep standing. She held him to her as he spilled himself inside of her, her inner walls clenching around him as he did as though to milk him for all he had.

‘Bed,’ Goldie mumbled when she could speak again, making no move to actually remove her legs from around his waist. She just pushed at his shoulders lightly and after a few more moments, during which she was pretty sure Scrooge blacked out for a second or two, he tightened his grip on her rump and lifted her again, staggering the few steps to the bed where they collapsed in a tangled heap, still intimately joined. Scrooge made to ease himself out of her but Goldie held him there, not quite ready to let him go just yet. So he just buried his face in her hair and held her closer.

They lay together, entwined, drifting in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours. The rest of the house grew quiet, and eventually, when the moon was high in the sky and flooded the room with silvery light, Scrooge finally spoke.

‘I’m sorry.’ He said, at last. Again.

‘I know you are.’ Goldie replied, squeezing his hand in hers.

‘I didn’t mean...’

‘Yes, you did. But it’s okay.’

Scrooge shook his head, pulling back so he could look her in the eye. ‘It isn’t.’ He insisted. ‘It never was. You were never to blame for my own pig-headedness.’

Goldie laughed, softly. ‘True. But I was for mine.’ She smiled at him and kissed him. ‘Let’s just let it go.’ She said, running her fingers through his whiskers and pulling him to her, Scrooge allowed himself to get lost in her all over again.

‘What was it that changed things for us? In that other world?’ He asked later, when she snoozed peacefully with her head on his chest.

‘I don’t know.’ Goldie shrugged. ‘One of us must have buckled. I bet it was you.’ She plucked a loose feather from under his chin, teasingly.

‘Pfft. Dickie says we were together for a over a hundred years!’ Scrooge scoffed. ‘That means the gold rush. The Ice Queen of Dawson is the one that buckled.’

Goldie pushed herself up on her elbows. ‘Oh, because the King of the Klondike was so warm and open and not at all emotionally crippled back then.’

Scrooge rolled his eyes. ‘You literally poisoned me on our first date.’

‘I drugged you, it’s different.’ She reasoned, snuggling back down again.

‘How?’

‘I let you wake up!’ She smacked his chest, as though to signal that she was regretting that decision.

‘Goldie, you always were a romantic.’ Scrooge grinned, and tightened his hold on her as she moved in closer.

‘We named her Dawson.’ Goldie said quietly after a while. Scrooge frowned, not quite following.

‘Who?’ He asked.

‘Our daughter. Dickie’s mother.’

Scrooge felt for a moment like he’d been kicked in the stomach. He pulled back to look at her and immediately regretted it. Never in his life had he seen that look on Goldie’s face, that look that only a woman who has missed her chance to have children can get. It’s a kind of resolved sorrow, that sits within them always, even if it’s only subconsciously and mostly ignored. He’d seen it plenty over the years, on his sister Matilda, on women he’d worked with, aunts and cousins and friends. But he’d never imagined he would see it on Goldie. When she declared she would never lay an egg and never wanted to, he’d believed her. Perhaps she’d believed herself too, until she had this glimpse of another world, another life. A world in which they were three.

‘It wasn’t us.’ Scrooge said, reaching out to take her hand in his, and bringing to his mouth where he pressed a kiss into her palm. Goldie stared at their entwined fingers.

‘No, it wasn’t,’ she agreed. ‘But it could have been.’

‘Let’s not waste any more time on what could have been. What is is complicated enough.’

‘Dickie...’ Goldie started, still unsure of where they stood on that topic.

‘She’s a miracle,’ Scrooge said, with a half dazed grin. ‘All that she did to help you bring Lena back? Incredible. I can’t wait to know her properly.’

Goldie’s heart swelled, her throat suddenly dry. ‘I love you so much,’ she confessed in a whisper. ‘It scares me how much, sometimes.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Scrooge admitted. ‘It’s always been my biggest fear that you would realise that’s how I felt about you, and run a mile.’

‘I did,’ Goldie reminded him, with a chuckle. ‘But you always came after me.’

‘I always will,’ Scrooge assured her. ‘We’re old now, Goldie. Even if you certainly don’t look it. The things that used to matter before don’t matter so much any more. As time goes on, I’ve realised that.’

‘Beakley says that family matters more to you than gold, these days. More than adventure, too.’ Goldie said, casually.

‘It’s true, you do,’ Scrooge agreed. He didn’t notice the way Goldie’s eyes sparkled at his words, as she hid her face beneath his chin. ‘You and the kids - and Donald and the rest. I’ve got all the gold I could ever need, though I’ll never tire of finding more of it. But it’s more fun finding it with all of you.’

‘Oh hush now, you old sap,’ Goldie teased. ‘You’ll make yourself sick with all that sugar.’

But when she kissed him, it was with all the feeling she couldn’t bring herself to put into words. Scrooge kissed her back, his hands catching her hair and twisting those familiar golden locks around his fingers, holding his greatest treasure close to his heart until they both finally drifted off into a contented sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Dickie woke up in McDuck Manor, cosy and warm in her own bed, sunlight streaming through the window. She could hear the peacocks outside, and the rustle of the trees in the wind. It was nice to be home, she thought, even though she couldn’t remember ever being away.

Though it was a struggle, she eventually dragged herself out of bed and shuffled over to her dresser in search of clothes for the day. As she dug out her favourite jeans, and a cheesecloth shirt that had once belonged to her mother before she became to sensible for such things, she found herself trying to remember her dream. She knew she had dreamed, there was something lingering there in her head, just out of reach, but she just couldn’t get to it.

Eventually she shook the memory from her mind and headed down to breakfast.

The smell of coffee wafted through the hall as she headed to the dining room. Extra strong, just the way she liked it. As she walked through the door, Duckworth appeared as if by magic to hand her her favourite mug, full to the brim with caffeinated goodness.

‘You’re a saint, Duckworth,’ she breathed, the very scent of it chasing away the lingering traces of what she figured by now must have been a nightmare.

‘Morning sweetheart,’ her mother said from her place at the large dining room table. She was drinking coffee from her own cup, leafing through papers and picking at a plate of fruit. Dawson McDuck greeted her daughter with a warm smile.

‘Morning Mom,’ Dickie said, grinning back. She was struck for a moment by something strange as she regarded the scene in front of her. The dining room looked the same as it did every morning, her mom looked the same, even the tune that carried from the kitchen as Duckworth hummed to himself while preparing Dickie’s favourite blueberry pancakes was the same, but even so there was something about it. Dickie found herself rushing forward to hug Dawson from behind, causing her to gasp and slosh her coffee all over the table cloth and half of her papers.

‘Dickie! Careful, please,’ her mother admonished, but she put down the papers and hugged her daughter back all the same, as best she could reach. Dickie’s spontaneous shows of affection were always welcome, no matter what the aftermath.

‘I love you, Mom,’ Dickie said, hugging her that little bit tighter before finally letting go.

‘I love you too, you mad McDuck,’ Dawson replied, rolling her eyes.

Just then, the door opened and Scrooge entered, his own newspaper folded under his arm as he polished his glasses and popped them on top of his beak.

‘Morning girls,’ he grumbled good-naturedly, taking his seat at the head of the table and opening his paper. A second later Duckworth appeared with a pot of nutmeg tea for Scrooge and a stack of blueberry pancakes for Dickie.

‘Hi Grandpa!’ 

‘Morning Daddy,’ 

After a moment, Scrooge glanced up only to find his daughter and granddaughter looking at him.

‘What are you two up to?’ He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Dawson shrugged. ‘Oh, you know. Plotting. Scheming. The usual.’

Scrooge chuckled. ‘How very O’Gilt of you.’

As if on cue, the front door suddenly slammed very loudly, and Goldie McDuck - née O’Gilt - appeared in the doorway of the dining room shortly after. She was dressed in tattered adventure gear, with scorch marks and scrapes all over, her silver hair a wild mane and her eyes more alive than any of them had seen for weeks.

Scrooge brightened at her appearance, despite the fact that she had obviously recently faced some mild peril.

‘And where have you been this time?’ He asked, his beak wrinkling at the faint smell of brimstone.

‘Demogorgana.’ Goldie said, shrugging innocently.‘I may have accidentally started an uprising.’

Scrooge rolled his eyes. ‘I am sure there was nothing accidental about it.’

‘Well, Scroogey-poo, you should have come with me instead of taking your boring old board meeting. I start uprisings and you stop them, that’s how it works. Without you there, I’m afraid I’m left to my own devices and you know I tend to steal things when I’m at a loose end.’

‘What did you get?’ Dickie asked eagerly, ignoring the glare from her mother. Dawson had long accepted that her parents would never change, but she’d be damned if they corrupted her daughter too, despite her love for them.

Goldie grinned, and tossed a heavy amulet at Dickie. ‘The Eye of Demogorgan,’ she said as the teenager caught it deftly. ‘Makes the wearer impervious to burns.’

‘Cool!’ Dickie exclaimed, immediately searching for matches to light the candles in the centre of the table. Dawson put out a hand to stop her.

‘No demon magic at the breakfast table Dickie, please.’ She begged, looking to Scrooge for back up. The old man never could resist his daughter’s wide eyed, imploring stare, and so he folded up his paper and nodded in agreement.

‘Aye, put the talisman away for now lassie,’ he said. ‘Last thing we need is a curse upon us before elevenses. You can play with it later.’

Dickie rolled her eyes but acquiesced, and Goldie groaned.

‘Honestly, you two are no fun.’ She grumbled, rounding the table and heading straight for her husband, who she hadn’t laid eyes on for a couple of days - and in her eyes a couple of days was far too long. He realised her intention and pushed his chair back from the table just in time for her to land heavily in his lap, snuggling into him cozily as his arms wrapped around her.

‘Morning Moneybags,’ she grinned, one hand going straight to his whiskers while the fingers of her other hand plucked at the soft feathers of his chest that were just accessible through the gap in his robe.

‘Morning, devil woman,’ Scrooge replied, with unbridled affection. ‘Our bed’s been awfully cold while you’ve been off gallivanting in fiery demon dimensions.’

‘Well, that’ll never do,’ Goldie said, seriously. ‘You’ll just have to stay home from the office today and we’ll see what we can do about warming it up.’ She leaned in to kiss him, quite inappropriately, and Dickie giggled knowing how much this would be annoying her mother, and averted her eyes to give her incorrigible grandparents their moment of privacy.

‘Alright, keep it PG please parents.’ Dawson spoke up when Goldie’s hand began to wander further and Scrooge started to get lost in his wife’s ruffled feathers. Scrooge, as though suddenly remembering where exactly they were, supported the notion and with every ounce of self control available, he took Goldie’s hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss her palm instead.

‘Thank you.’ Dawson said, her tone clipped.

‘Such a prude.’ Goldie quipped right back.

‘I am not a prude.’ Dawson insisted. ‘I’m a victim of childhood trauma thanks to _your_ overactive sex drive, and I’ve got the therapy bills to prove it.’

‘Yes, I know. You sent them to _me_.’ Scrooge grumbled, swatting his wife’s rear when she slipped off his lap and went to reach over him to grab the coffee pot. Goldie chuckled and wiggled her tail at him in response, which only served to ignore the fires of passion in the old duck once again.

Dawson pushed herself away from the table, tidying up her papers and tucking them under her arm. Without another word she went to slip out and head upstairs, away from her parents.

‘Hey misery guts, where do you think you’re going?’ Goldie piped up, teasingly. ‘Don’t you have a kiss for your old mother?’

‘Not when I don’t know where she’s been,’ Dawsonshot back. Scrooge and Dickie glanced at each other.

‘Now then, enough of that. Or I won’t give you your present.’ Goldie said the magic words and Dawson’s paused on her way to the door, interested despite herself.

‘Present?’

Goldie nodded, catching her daughter’s hand and pulling her closer. ‘I didn’t even steal it. Now, I didn’t buy it either, but that beside the point. I picked it, with permission.’

She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a soft purple flower, that seemed to ripple different shades in the morning light. Dickie’s eyes lit up and Dawson gasped, as Goldie slipped the flower into her hair, pinning it in place.

‘Blooms for a hundred years, even after it’s been plucked. I thought it’d look perfect with your pretty eyes, and I was right.’

‘Thanks Momma,’ Dawson said, uncharacteristically quietly. ‘It’s beautiful, I love it.’

She leaned in to kiss Goldie’s cheek, and then went to kiss her father on his creased forehead too.

Scrooge smiled, and then opened his paper again. ‘Alright then, off you go. Back to your stomping off.’ 

Dawson grinned at her parents and her daughter, and carried on on her way.

‘Gigi, next time you go on an adventure and Grandpa has to work - can I come with you?’ Dickie asked, eagerly. ‘I’m old enough now, I could be useful.’

‘That’s up to your mother,’ Goldie answered diplomatically. ‘At least it is when she’s around to ask permission, at any rate.’

Just then, Dickie heard Dawson calling her from somewhere upstairs. She frowned, wondering how she could have found the need to call her so fast. Then she shrugged, figuring she should at least go and see what she wanted.

She left Scrooge and Goldie canoodling at the table, not even bothering to interrupt them to excuse herself. But as soon as she stepped out into the mansion, she knew something was wrong.

‘Dickie!’ Her mother’s shouts echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls so much that Dickie couldn’t tell where they were coming from.

‘Mom?’ She called, searching through different rooms trying to find her. ‘Mom, where are you?’

‘Dickie!’ That time was clearer, it was coming from upstairs. Dickie hurried upstairs towards her mother’s bedroom and the moment her hand touched the door knob, the world exploded.

Fire sprung up all around her, thick black smoke clouding her eyes. She wrenched at the handle and the door opened on a room of flames.

‘MOM!’ She cried, throwing the Eye of Demogorgan around her neck and leaping into the room without a thought for anything else.

‘DICKIE!’ Her mother’s voice was everywhere. All around her. She searched through the fire but she couldn’t find her. It was like she wasn’t really there, like the voice was just an echo. A shadow.

‘ _Dickie_!’ That was Gigi’s voice now, back in the dining room. Dickie fled from her mother’s room and back down the stairs and toward her grandparents. They would know what to do. They were Scrooge and Goldie McDuck, they always knew what to do. But when Dickie opened the door to the dining room, she didn’t see her grandparents, all she saw was more fire.

‘Gigi! Grandpa! Where are you?!’ She cried, fighting her way back into the room. Just like upstairs, there was no trace of them. The flame started to lick at her feathers, and despite the amulet she was beginning to feel the prickle of burning as the world around her grew hotter and darker, and smoke filled her lungs.

‘Gigi! Grandpa!’ She coughed and choked and fell to her knees. ‘ _Mommy_... help!’

She woke up screaming.

 

 

Across the hall, Goldie sat bolt upright in bed, Scrooge stirring at her side.

‘Mmm-whassat?’ Scrooge rubbed at his eyes, the unfamiliar sound meaning his brain took a little longer to wake up than it might if it were the boys or Webby crying out in anguish. He frowned. ‘Is it Lena?’

‘No. Dickie.’ Goldie said sharply, rolling out of bed. She grabbed her robe on the way and was tying it as she slipped out the door. She was gone before Scrooge had even properly opened his eyes. When the door slammed softly behind her, Scrooge sat up with a start and dragged himself out of bed to follow her, picking up his own robe and making sure all evidence of their earlier amorous endeavours was safely tucked away.

The door to Dickie’s bedroom was open, and as he rushed down the hall, he saw that lights had begun to come on in the other bedroom’s too, and doors were twitching open.

‘Back to bed, boys,’ Scrooge said in a hushed voice, as he passed their door. It closed until it was only open a crack, but he could still hear their whispered voices and he knew they would be fighting to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

Mrs Beakley appeared at the end of the hall when he reached Dickie’s door. She was ready, in combat stance, and Scrooge had to signal silently to her that they weren’t under attack. She hesitated a moment longer, because frankly Goldie O’Gilt was in the house and she considered that as being under attack, but Scrooge’s soft expression as he regarded the scene through the doorway finally convinced her that now was not the time to push that point.

Scrooge lingered awkwardly in the doorway, watching as Goldie held a crying Dickie tightly to her, rocking her back and forth like she was settling a wailing babe. She’d climbed into the bed with her and gathered the girl in her arms, and Dickie had buried her face in her grandmother’s golden hair, so her sobs were muffled.

‘It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re safe. Nothing can get you here, I promise.’ Goldie was murmuring promises to comfort her and Scrooge felt his heart constrict in his chest. He didn’t know what nightmares plagued his granddaughter. He didn’t know how to help make them go away.

As he shifted awkwardly in the doorway, his movement caught Goldie’s attention and in a moment their eyes met. He saw the pain and helplessness in her eyes and realised in that moment that she really had no idea what she was doing either. She was just as uncomfortable as he was with it all, but she ignored all that and ran to Dickie’s side when she needed her grandmother just the same.

That thought spurred Scrooge over the threshold at last. He crossed to the bed and carefully perched on the edge, taking one of Goldie’s hands in his. She squeezed it tightly and tugged him to move closer, and so he sat properly on the bed and wrapped his arms around the both of them, so that he and Goldie held Dickie between them in a cocoon of safety and comfort. She still sniffled into Goldie’s shoulder, but her hand clutched at the sleeve of Scrooge’s robe and held onto him tightly.

‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ Goldie said again, her eyes meeting Scrooge’s. ‘I’m here.’

‘We’re both here.’ Scrooge said, his gruff voice rumbling through the darkness. ‘And we’re not going anywhere. Never again.’

Dickie let out a sob and Goldie’s eyes filled with tears too. Scrooge tightened his grip, pulling both of them closer to him so that Goldie’s head rested on his shoulder and Dickie tucked hers under both of their chins.

After a long while, Dickie’s breathing finally evened out and they knew she had fallen back to sleep. Goldie untangled herself carefully from Scrooge’s arms and stepped back so that he could lay the girl down gently in her bed. Goldie gathered up the twisted sheets and shook them out carefully, covering Dickie with them and tucking her in. When the time came to leave, Goldie found she couldn’t do so of her own accord and so Scrooge took her hand and led her out to the hall.

As soon as the door to Dickie’s room closed, Goldie turned to Scrooge and melted into his welcoming embrace, emotionally drained. After so long without it, she was beginning to wonder how she ever managed without the promise of his arms.

‘Does that happen a lot?’ Scrooge asked, softly.

‘Not as often as you’d think. She’s a tough kid. I guess being back in this house... and on her own... I should have thought.’

‘You can’t think of everything.’ Scrooge reasoned, holding her a little tighter. 

‘Don’t coddle me, Scrooge.’ Goldie grumbled, wriggling out of his grasp. She stayed close though.

‘I’m not... I just... I don’t know what to say.’ Scrooge admitted, looking down at his hands. ‘These last few days haven’t turned out like I expected them to.’

‘I guess they haven’t.’ Goldie agreed.

They realised then that the doors down the corridor were twitching again, as the kids did their best to peer inconspicuously out.

Scrooge sighed, rubbing at his temple. ‘You go back to bed, I can handle the kids.’ He suggested.

‘No, it’s alright,’ Goldie said, taking his hand and squeezing it. ‘We can handle them together.’


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, so much fluff. It’s fluffier than their adorably fluffy duck butts. Fluff with a side of fluff. Two for one sale on FLUFF. You get the picture.
> 
> PS: Listen - I know Webby and HDL’s rooms aren’t actually near Scrooge’s. But for the purposes of this story, they are. Far enough away to not be kept awake by all the Scroldie smut, but close enough to be woken up by Dickie’s nightmare. Call it artistic licensing. Don’t sue me.

The moment Scrooge and Goldie drew level with the doors of the kids rooms, Webby’s opened and she and Lena spilled out into the hallway, practically gagging for information. Their hands flew apart, instinctively. Webby and Lena didn’t seem to notice.

‘Is Dickie okay?’ Webby asked, concern radiating from her intense little face. ‘Why was she screaming?’

‘It sounded like she was having a hell of a nightmare.’ Lena added, shuddering. She wasn’t unfamiliar with those herself.

‘Shh, not so loud girls,’ Scrooge said with a finger to his beak. At that moment, Goldie turned the doorknob to the boys room and pushed it open, resulting in a resounding crash as the triplets - who had up to that point been balanced one on top of the other to best see through the crack in the door - tumbled to the ground and landed in a graceless heap. Goldie quirked an eyebrow in cool amusement as they righted themselves and scrambled to look presentable to their unexpected audience.

‘Come on, inside,’ Goldie said, nodding her head at the boys room. ‘We’ll wake the whole house, making a racket in the hallway like this.’

Webby and Lena trotted across the hall and into the boys room without hesitation, closely followed by Scrooge, whose hand lingered on top of Goldie’s as they closed the door behind them. Their eyes met, uncertainly. This was new territory. They had to trust each other.

‘Does Dickie want to sleep in my room with us, Goldie? We don’t mind.’ Webby offered, and Goldie’s icy heart melted a little at the girl’s wide eyed generosity. She smiled, tightly.

‘She might take you up on that another night, but she’s asleep again now and hopefully she’ll stay that way.’ Goldie said, glancing at Scrooge again. ‘Maybe you can talk to her in the morning.’

‘Is she okay now then?’ Huey asked, frowning. The scream that had woken them hadn’t sounded like something that would be solved by a good night’s sleep.

‘No, she’s not okay,’ Goldie sighed. ‘And it’s going to take a while for her to be okay. She maybe never will be. You see, Dickie came here from another world. I found her there and brought her back and... well, the place she came from is very different to here.’

Webby nodded. ‘She told us about the Shadow War.’ She said, helpfully. Goldie’s eyes widened, and hadn’t expected that.

‘Shadow War?’ Scrooge frowned in confusion, and in that moment Goldie realised in all their sulking and their subsequent passionate reunion, they hadn’t actually talked about any of this properly. It suddenly felt like a chasm of uncertainty had opened between them, but for once she didn’t let it start to pull them apart.

‘Look kids, that’s a long story and your Uncle and I haven’t even discussed it all ourselves yet. Though we will.’ Goldie said quickly. ‘But if Dickie told you about it already then you know, she came from a very bad place.’

‘Everybody died there,’ Webby said quietly, and Scrooge didn’t miss the way that Goldie’s hand seemed to instinctively reach for his at Webby’s words. He met her half way, and she entwined their fingers, gripping him tightly. Anchoring herself to him.

‘Yes they did.’ Goldie replied finally, her voice wavering. ‘But Dickie didn’t. She got out, and she came back here with me and now...’ she trailed off, looking somewhat desperately at Scrooge. It wasn’t her place to say this stuff to the kids. They hadn’t even talked about it, they hadn’t even had a real conversation outside of their bed. She was floundering, and he knew it.

Scrooge squeezed her hand back in quiet reassurance. ‘Now she’s here with us,’ he confirmed. ‘And she might need some help adjusting, but Dickie’s part of our family now. I hope that’s going to be okay with all of you.’

‘Geez, you could put on a production of Annie with the number of kids in this place now,’ Lena commented, but she was grinning nervously and Scrooge knew she was trying to make a joke. He appreciated the sentiment, even if it didn’t land.

‘Please don’t suggest that to Dickie,’ Goldie said seriously. She’d heard several renditions of songs echoing from the penthouse shower that she didn’t need to relive any time soon.

‘Of course it’s okay with us,’ Huey piped up, speaking for all of the triplets who nodded along. ‘She’s our cousin. It doesn’t matter where she came from, she’s still our family.’

Goldie’s eyes filled with tears at their immediate and unquestioning acceptance of the girl who had come to mean so much to her in so short a time, and she averted them quickly, hoping the kids wouldn’t notice. The boys pretended not to at first, but Webby, because she was Webby, just climbed down from her spot on Dewey’s bed and padded silently over to Scrooge and Goldie, throwing her arms around Goldie’s waist. Goldie didn’t say anything, but she also didn’t stop her free arm from dropping down to wrap around Webby’s shoulders and hug her tightly to her in return. It seemed that was all the invitation the boys needed to follow suit and leap from their beds to pile on top of Scrooge and Goldie like a gaggle of tumbling monkeys. Lena just watched, amused and oddly comforted by the sight, albeit from a safe distance.

‘You’re our family too, _Aunt_ _Goldie_. Whether you like it or not.’ Louie quipped, earning himself an exaggerated cuff around the ear from Goldie herself. Scrooge chuckled, and the boys took that as their queue to lighten the mood.

‘Yeah, there’s no escaping now.’ Dewey agreed seriously. ‘You’re in. And we were going to have an intervention at breakfast, so count yourself lucky.’

‘Wait - what? We’re missing out on an intervention? But they’re always so successful when you kids plan them.’ Goldie said, teasingly. Scrooge blushed, thinking back to that day at the kids ill-fated dinner and all that followed. The ring he’d given her then, that she’d returned when she left, suddenly felt as though it was burning a hole in the drawer in his room in which it resided.

‘Actually if you think about it, the last one worked pretty well.’ Huey pointed out, gesturing at their joined hands. Goldie flushed and moved to jerk her hand away, but Scrooge held it tightly and pulled her closer to his side. She struggled for a moment, and then something washed over her and she let herself relax into him. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and suddenly she was the most content she had ever been, cocooned in the warmth of their odd little family.

‘Alright, enough chit chat,’ Scrooge said, stern but still smiling. And still with Goldie tucked pleasantly into his side. ‘Everybody back to bed.’

The boys climbed back into their bunks and waited patiently for Scrooge to come and tuck them in, which they’d learned he liked to do after particularly high stakes adventures. They let him, even though they were too old for it really. None of them would admit it was because they secretly liked him to do it.

Webby and Lena stood, and lingered slightly awkwardly by the door. Goldie gave Scrooge’s hand one last squeeze and let go, following the girls to the door.

‘Come on girls, let’s leave the men to it,’ she said, in reference to a world long passed that no one there but Scrooge would remember. She wasn’t sure if Webby took her hand or the other way around, but she wasn’t averse to it. Lena pulled open the door and Webby pulled Goldie after them and across the hall.

Webby was overly excited to have Goldie in her room, and it was all she could do to stay calm enough to get in bed and not launch into an in depth interview to answer every outstanding question on her McDuck Family mystery board. The board still drew Goldie’s attention though, it was quite the sight to behold for the first time.

‘You didn’t get out much before those boys moved in, did you kiddo?’ Goldie commented, chuckling at the little drawings and wild theories that littered the board. Somewhere she’d found an old newspaper clipping from ‘Glittering Goldie’s’ days at the Blackjack Ballroom, and the sight of it made Goldie smile sadly. Everything had been so simple back then. And so impossible at the same time.

‘Oh, getting out hasn’t lessened this obsession,’ Lena said, rolling her eyes. ‘You’re just dying to add Dickie on there, aren’t you Pink?’

Webby nodded enthusiastically, and brandished her freshly doodled portrait of Dickie wildly.

‘I was just waiting for the ink to dry,’ she explained. Goldie took it from her, and crossed the room to the board. She stared at it for a long moment, and then without further hesitation she unstuck the picture of herself from the far side of the board and stuck it next to Scrooge, with Dickie beneath them. But still, when she looked at it, she knew the picture was incomplete.

‘You’ll have to ask Dickie to draw you a picture of Dawson,’ Goldie said, quietly. Her fingers lingered on the empty space just below her and Scrooge, above Dickie.

‘Dawson?’ Webby repeated, confused. Lena nudged her with her elbow, and the smaller girl’s brain caught up. ‘Oh! Is that Dickie’s mom? Do... do you think it’d be okay to ask her? Would she mind?’

Goldie set her face in as close as she could get to a smile and turned around. ‘She’d love it. She loves talking about her mom, you should definitely ask her.’

‘Okay!’ Webby punched the air. Lena, however, looked uncomfortable.

‘It was... it was Magica who killed Dickie’s mom, wasn’t it?’ She asked, awkwardly. 

Goldie looked at Lena properly for the first time. This gangly, overly casual teenager, with her cool hair and her eyeliner and her permanently put out expression. Goldie knew that under all that there was a scared little girl, unsure of her place in the world and uncertain as to whether she could trust the people who were trying to give her one.

She knew that little girl. She had been that little girl, once. Only she didn’t have a family like this - or at least, she didn’t then. But even if she had, she probably wouldn’t have believed she deserved it. Not after everything she’d done to survive.

She sighed, and sat on the edge of Lena’s bed.

‘Lena, right?’ She asked, even though she obviously already knew. Lena nodded all the same. ‘I’m Goldie, we haven’t been properly introduced.’

‘Hi,’ Lena said, with a meek half wave. She still couldn’t quite meet Goldie’s eye. But Goldie wasn’t deterred.

‘Yes, it was Magica who killed Dickie’s mom.’ She said, with a fierceness and finality that finally made Lena look up. ‘It was Magica who killed _me_ , and Scrooge, and Donald and Gyro and everyone else in Dickie’s world.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Lena whispered, sincerely. They were words of sympathy, but Goldie heard the undertone of remorse hidden beneath.

‘It’s not your fault, sweetheart,’ Goldie said, cutting through the bullshit and going straight for the heart of Lena’s insecurity. ‘Nothing Magica did there, or here. She’s not a good person, she never was. And she did you wrong, just like she did Dickie and everyone else.’

‘I helped her start the Shadow War here,’ Lena said, the words spilling out of her before she could stop them. Webby sat up in surprise. ‘She could have killed everyone. Just like she did there.’

Goldie reached out to lay a hand on the rumpled bedsheets just next to Lena. She didn’t touch her, she didn’t take her hand, but she made sure she was close enough for comfort if Lena needed it. It was terrifying how well she knew this kid.

‘Even if she had, it wouldn’t have been your fault.’ Goldie told her, firmly. Then she voiced the fear that Lena thought she’d buried down deep enough for no one to find it. ‘Lena, no one here blames you for what happened.’

‘Of course nobody blames you!’ Webby gasped, as though the very suggestion was a scandal. She stared at her friend, who didn’t meet her eye. Then she gasped again. ‘Lena, do you think that we do?’

‘I...’ Lena opened her mouth to answer, but her words dried up. Goldie sat back, and watched as the girl curled in on herself and Webby stepped up.

‘Oh Lena, you beautiful idiot.’ Webby admonished in the most Webby way possible. ‘Of course we don’t. You saved me, you saved all of us. Magica used you, you didn’t help her out of choice.’

At last, Lena looked up at Webby and their eyes met, both brimming with watery tears. Without further ado, Webby launched herself at her friend and hugged her tightly.

A throat cleared in the doorway, and Goldie looked up to see Scrooge there, watching. She didn’t know how long he’d been there, but from the soft look in his eyes she guessed he’d been there long enough.

‘Alright, bedtime,’ Goldie said, easing the two apart and ushering Webby back to her own bed. ‘You lot are going to be so tired in the morning.’

‘Yeah, I guess it’s a good job adults don’t need as much sleep as kids, huh?’ Lena said slyly, just out of Webby’s hearing. Goldie looked up sharply, and saw the uncertainty behind the teasing glint in the girl’s eye, wondering if she was going to get away with it. Goldie just chuckled darkly, and ruffled Lena’s pink hair so that it stuck up at all angles and the teen looked horrified.

‘Sleep well, kiddo,’ she said, reaching over to tuck her in. ‘We’ll try to keep it down.’ Lena pretended to be disgusted and annoyed at being coddled in such a way, but like the boys she’d never admit that she quite liked it. Webby, on the other hand, relished every second and made sure to throw her arms around Goldie’s neck and squeeze her tightly before relenting and letting herself be tucked into her own bed. Goldie bid the girls goodnight and went to join Scrooge, who took her hand and closed the door behind them. When they were alone in the corridor, he pulled her bodily to him and kissed her deeply, his hands sinking into her hair and holding her to him like he hadn’t seen her for weeks.

‘What was that for?’ Goldie asked breathlessly, when the broke apart.

‘Do I need a reason?’ Scrooge asked, still staring into her emerald eyes with a sappy smile on his face. ‘That was quite impressive. You’re better at all this than you think.’

Goldie wanted to deny it, but for some reason she didn’t. For some reason she let him take her by the hand and tug her back down the hall, without a single objection.

 

 

They returned to their bedroom, suddenly with no interest in going to sleep despite the late hour. Scrooge sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

They needed to talk, Goldie knew this. There was so much to say. But neither knew where to start, nor had the inclination to right now.

Goldie stepped between his knees, stilling his hands with her own and taking over, running her fingers through his whiskers and massaging his scalp under the feathers, gentle but firm. Scrooge hummed and closed his eyes, leaning into her hands with a sleepy smile.

‘How’s the head?’ She asked, cheekily. Scrooge chuckled, she knew full well the pounding aftermath of inter dimensional travel, it tended to get worse the second day.

‘Terrible,’ he grumbled. He hooked a hand behind her back and tugged her toward him, turning her slightly so she landed soundly on his knee. She wiggled her rear when she sat down, leaning into him teasingly.

‘Oh dear, poor Scroogey,’ she murmured, bumping her forehead gently against his. ‘Would it help if I kissed it better?’

‘Knowing the way that would end, probably not. But I’d enjoy it all the same.’ Scrooge admitted, his hand dancing up and down her spine and settling just above her tail feathers. Goldie grinned and kissed him anyway, once on his forehead and then again properly, her wrists crossing behind his neck and pulling him closer to her. They fell back on the bed, sinking into the soft blankets, and kissed lazily for a while, content and comfortable in one another’s embrace. At some point, Goldie rolled over and Scrooge wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, thinking perhaps she’d decided they should try to sleep after all.

Goldie, however, had other ideas. A well practiced wiggle of her tail was all it took and suddenly Scrooge found he was fully standing to attention. She grinned coyly over her shoulder and reached behind to wrap her fingers around his manhood, pumping him languidly, as Scrooge melted into her body with a groan, his face pressing into her shoulder.

‘Hush now,’ Goldie whispered, amused at how quickly he’d turned to putty in her hands. ‘The kids have had enough drama for one night. They’ll never let us live it down if we wake them now.’

Scrooge huffed, and pulled her snug against his body, taking her words as a challenge. For a moment, their lower bodies bumped together awkwardly, as Scrooge and his growing erection tried, unsuccessfully at first, to find a way to fit their bodies together without Goldie’s rather ample tail getting in the way.

She quite enjoyed the friction and the vision of Scrooge’s frustration, so Goldie let him struggle a while longer before she relented and twisted slightly so that her tail was out of the way, and Scrooge did the same the opposite way so that they found the perfect angle and he was able to ease himself into her from behind. All playfulness forgotten, Goldie gasped at this sudden new found depth, and whimpered into her pillow as his hands splayed over her stomach and he pulled her back toward him and down onto his dick, burying himself to the hilt, as deep as he could go. The tip of him bumped against her deepest crevices and she couldn’t help but moan as he filled her so completely.

‘Hush now, wouldn’t want to wake the kids,’ Scrooge teased, his hands roaming across her body, one settling between her legs while the other moved to explore the soft feathers and flesh of her breasts, and Goldie quickly lost all control of her senses.

‘Oh god,’ she hissed, as his deft fingers worked her most sensitive parts while he continued to thrust into her from behind. ‘Forget the kids, don’t stop, Scrooge,’ she begged, her own hands fluttering wildly, at a loss of where to land. In the end, she reached behind her head with one hand to grip the back of his and keep him pressed close to her, while the other moved to secure the hand that rested between her legs, lest he dare try to stop touching her there.

‘Wasn’t planning on it,’ Scrooge chuckled in her ear, while the hand that fondled her breasts danced between her chest and her delicate tail feathers, teasing everywhere they touched until her whole body was tingling.

Their pace remained gloriously, deliciously slow, the kind of lazy lovemaking they had never had the luxury of time to enjoy before. For the first time, they genuinely knew that neither of them were going to run away when it was over. They knew they would fall asleep together and wake up together, and that was the thought in both their minds as their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, heading toward the prize of a divine afterglow.

Goldie shifted in his arms and turned her head so that she could accept the kisses he readily bestowed, and they swallowed each other’s soft, contented utterings as their orgasms began to creep up on them, like smouldering embers catching light and slowly building into a roaring flame.

Goldie began to lose control first, as Scrooge’s assault on her senses continued, relentlessly.

‘I’m close,’ she gasped, unable to help herself from grinding back into him, harder and faster than before. ‘Oh _god_ \- Scrooge - I’m so close, _please_... I can’t... I need you to - _oh_...’

‘I’m here,’ Scrooge assured her, his own vision beginning to cloud over. He held her tightly to him, one arm across her chest and the other back between her legs, working furiously while his hips upped their pace. Goldie, meanwhile, was completely coming apart in his arms, her body writhing and bucking as he continued to move within her, her face pressed deep into the pillow to smother the gasps and keening cries she couldn’t keep in. Suddenly, Scrooge found himself falling over the edge and it was all he could do to bury his face in her hair again and let out a deep, wordless moan that he tried his best to muffle by crushing his beak into her shoulder, as his climax struck and his hips jerked and snapped against hers, slamming into her welcoming warmth over and over and over again. Goldie’s body spasmed and clenched around him, and together they rode every wave that struck them into blissful oblivion until they were nothing more than a boneless tangle of sweaty limbs and sodden feathers, panting and gasping into their twisted bedsheets, unable to quite see straight.

‘Oh my god,’ Goldie managed, breathlessly. ‘That was... what _was_ that?’

‘Amazing,’ Scrooge grunted, similarly spent. ‘Come here,’ he murmured, rolling her towards him so that they were face to face at last. ‘I love you,’ he said, kissing her softly.

‘Love you too,’ Goldie replied, her eyes drifting closed even as she spoke. She snuggled in closer, burrowing into his side and sighing contentedly when his arms wrapped around her. They lay together, basking in the afterglow.

All too soon, she felt the sense of impending doom that came with Scrooge realising the time had come. The time to talk.

‘Goldie...’ he began, and then trailed off, not knowing where to go from there. Goldie screwed up her face in denial, which made Scrooge laugh at least. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, in an attempt to smooth out her frown lines, and she eventually, begrudgingly, blinked her eyes open and waited for him to ask his question.

‘Will ye tell me what happened, in that other world?’

Goldie pulled another face. This subject was the last thing she wanted to go near, but she knew she had to. She sighed, and eventually summoned the will to speak.

‘You need to know it’s not because I don’t want you to know.’ She explained, for it was suddenly important that he understood this. ‘I just... I don’t want to have to say it all out loud. And I don’t want to be the one to put it all in your head. If I could get it out of mine, I would.’

‘You’ve been suffering alone with this for too long.’ Scrooge reasoned.

‘I’ve had Dickie,’ Goldie pointed out, but Scrooge just shook his head.

‘Dickie’s a child. You’ve been taking care of her, being strong for her. You can’t share this burden with her, but you can with me.’

‘Scrooge...’ Goldie started, but then quickly realised she didn’t have any further excuses to give. They’d already been through everything the world could throw at them, this conversation didn’t need to be as hard as she was making it.

‘What happened to us, in Dickie’s world?’

‘We died.’

Scrooge rolled his eyes. ‘Before that.’

Goldie smiled, despite herself. ‘Well, apparently we got married and lived happily ever after.’

‘So we died of boredom, I assume.’ He joked, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. Her eyes dimmed, as she looked back into a world he couldn’t see.

‘Something like that.’ She whispered, sadly.

And then, she told him. All of it. When she went back there, how she went back there, how she found Dickie, everything Dickie had told her about Dawson, and the fire, and what happened after.

Scrooge held her to him as she fell apart reliving everything that happened in the Money Bin.

‘I held you in my arms as you faded away,’ she murmured, her eyes glazing over as she remembered it all, so clearly. ‘You _left_ me. On my own.’

‘I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’ Scrooge said soothingly, rocking her back and forth in his arms as she had done for Dickie earlier.

‘You can’t promise that,’ Goldie said, gripping his nightshirt in her hand, anchoring herself to him. ‘We’re not always together. We both go off on life threatening adventures all the time. When I died in that world, you crumbled. How can we take that risk here? How can we just let this happen, let ourselves be so damn vulnerable? Present such an obvious weakness to a world filled with people who would delight in tearing us apart and watching our demise?’

Scrooge rolled his eyes. ‘It’s already happened, you daft woman,’ he said. ‘Your deciding to stay, my deciding to follow, none of that makes a lick of difference. It’s you and me, Goldie. It always has been.’

‘So you’re saying we’re already doomed.’ Goldie mumbled, absently preening at the feathers on his chest.

‘To fall in love is to make an appointment with heartbreak - I read that somewhere. But that isn’t a reason not to.’ Scrooge said, seriously. ‘And I’m not going anywhere, so you’re just going to have to deal with that.’

They settled into a comfortable silence, and Goldie began to wonder if the worst could possibly be over. Then Scrooge rolled over and pushed himself up, climbing out of bed.

‘Wait - wait right there.’ He said suddenly. ‘Just a moment.’

‘I thought you weren’t going anywhere?’ Goldie grumbled, but she rolled over and pushed herself up on her elbow all the same, waiting for his swift return.

Scrooge crossed the room to his dresser, and retrieved something from within. He was back in the bed within seconds, cozying up in the covers next to her again. He placed something on the mattress between them, a small velvet covered box, that Goldie glared at like it was something that might explode.

‘What the hell, Scrooge?’ She said, snatching up the box and opening it. There, nestled inside, was the ring she’d left behind last time. She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Is this a proposal?’ She demanded.

Scrooge rolled his eyes and shook his head. ‘Please, I know better than to ask that,’ he chuckled. ‘But you left this behind once. I just... I don’t want you to leave it behind again.’

‘If it’s not a proposal, why does it matter so much to you that I wear it?’ Goldie asked. ‘Is it so important to you that I’m branded ‘property of Scrooge McDuck’ everywhere I go?’

‘I’m not trying to brand you, woman!’ Scrooge spluttered, disbelieving. He almost laughed, but the look on her face stopped him and he caught himself just in time. It wouldn’t do to poke the bear just now.

Scrooge sighed, and took the box from her, plucking the small circle of gold and ancient diamonds from within.

‘This ring belonged to my grandmother, and several generations before her. I’m not sure if I ever told you that.’ He mused, twisting it so that it caught the moonlight. Goldie froze.

‘You definitely didn’t.’ She said. She’d definitely have remembered something like that.

‘My mother gave it to be when I returned from the Klondike. She knew I’d met you... though of course she didn’t know the whole story. But she knew I’d met someone. And she hoped I’d one day bring that someone home.’

‘I don’t think this is what she had in mind.’ Goldie gestured between them, the jaded treasure hunting thief and her miserly old trillionaire, well beyond the twilight of their lives.

‘I don’t want to brand you, Goldie.’ Scrooge continued, seriously. ‘I don’t want to trap you. I want you to wear this ring, not because of what it says about you but because of what it says about _me_. It’s a symbol of my commitment to you, it doesn’t need to be anything else. But I want you to have it, when you’re not with me, to remember that I love you and I want you to come back.’

Goldie stared at him, a strange fluttery sensation dancing in her ribcage. He grinned, and held out the ring, waiting patiently until she finally relented and offered her hand for him to slip it onto her finger, where it had always belonged.

For a moment, she just stared at it. It looked exactly right.

‘I have a business to run,’ she said eventually, by way of feeble protest.

‘So do I, quite a few.’ Scrooge agreed.

‘I can’t stay here all the time.’

‘I’d never expect you to.’

‘And Dickie has school...’

‘I can help you pay for that.’

Goldie shook her head. ‘No, I’ve got it covered. But you can certainly pay for her therapy.’

‘Alright, deal.’

Goldie took a deep breath, and blew out her cheeks, letting it out slowly, calming herself down and slowing her thundering heart rate as best she could.

‘So, what do we do now...?’

Scrooge laid back down and opened his arms, and she wasted no time in snuggled into them.

‘Now, we get some sleep. Because there are six kids under this roof now, and if you think they’re letting us sleep past seven AM, you’re going to be quite disappointed.’

‘You’re really selling this family thing, Sourdough,’ Goldie grumbled, wriggling and burrowing further down beneath the covers, in the cocoon of his arms.

They lay together, entwined and entirely content, lost in the rise and fall of each other’s breathing as it evened out and their heart beats slowed to a gentle waltz, and they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started out with fluff and angst and then these horny idiots just started to have sex again and who am I to stop them? This is getting out of control but OH WELL. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting! You are all wonderful!


	16. Chapter 16

Dickie woke the next morning with no memory of her eventful night. She blinked into wakefulness with bleary eyes, and for a moment she wasn’t quite sure where she was. She knew she was in the mansion, but she wasn’t in her room. It took her a minute to remember that was because her room didn’t exist in this world. Her heart sank, but she shook those thoughts out of her head and rolled over in the bed expecting to be met with a mass of golden hair, as she had been yesterday.

But she was alone.

She sat up. ‘Gigi?’ Her eyes searched the room for any sign that Goldie had come to bed. There was none. Her nightgown was still folded over the back of the dressing table chair, the vortex manipulator sat untouched in the exact spot Goldie had left it, and the door was closed.

Dickie threw the covers off her bed and scrambled out of it, grabbing her hoodie and throwing it on. She wrenched the door open and ran into the corridor, pausing for a moment to get her bearings.

The door right at the end of the hall, that was Scrooge’s room. She remembered that from her childhood, when it had been her grandparents’ room. Her room was somewhere on the other side of the house, her mother had picked it. She’d told her back when she was little it was because her Grandpa snored and the noise would keep her awake. She discovered several years later her mother’s concern was certainly that of noise from her grandparents’ room keeping her awake, but that noise certainly wasn’t snoring.

Now, in this world, in the present, the hallway was blissfully silent. Dickie crept down the corridor toward Scrooge’s room, not letting herself begin to dare to believe.She lingered at the door, listening for any sounds of stirring from inside. There were none, so she dared to reach out and turn the handle carefully, opening the door just a crack. She peered inside and her heart leapt at the sight of her grandparents snuggled up together, tangled in the silk sheets with their arms around each other, fast asleep.

Dickie gasped and covered her beak, closing the door again as carefully as she could and managing to get at least a few steps away before she was overcome by the need to squeak in excitement.

She bounced up and down, punching the air. Then the tore off down the corridor, heading in the direction of the kids rooms.

The door to the boys’ bedroom was open, their beds empty. Undeterred, Dickie tried all the other doors on their floor until she found Webby’s bedroom, and all of the kids. Five pairs of wide eyes spun towards her when she burst through the door.

‘Guys! Guess what - oh, you’ll never guess so I’ll tell you. Gigi and Grandpa Scrooge made up! She didn’t come to bed last night, and she’s in Grandpa’s room! And they’re all snuggled up and adorable, it’s amazing! And... why don’t any of you look surprised about this?’

Dickie’s face fell as she saw the way the kids cast awkward glances at each other, then back to her.

‘Dickie, do you not remember what happened last night?’ Webby asked. Dickie shook her head, but she was beginning to guess what this was about.

‘Yeah, um... the thing is we know because we saw them last night,’ Louie explained. ‘They were all gross and hand holdy and smoochy after... um...’

‘You had a nightmare,’ Webby supplied.

‘It sounded like a really bad one,’ Dewey added, scratching the back of his head and not quite meeting Dickie’s eyes.

‘I guess you don’t remember, but Goldie and Scrooge came in and then we saw them together after you fell back to sleep.’ Huey finished.

‘Oh.’ Dickie mumbled, suddenly feeling like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She didn’t remember, she never remembered her nightmares, but she knew she had them. First it had been Donald and Della she had woken, and the twins used to climb into bed with her and cuddle into her sides until she fell back to sleep. Then it had been Gyro, who tended to throw something at her to wake her up, and then would reel off endless scientific theories until he bored her to sleep again. Lately, it had been Goldie who soothed her back to sleep. Over the last year, she’d woken up screaming less and less. Just knowing that her Gigi was near, and alive, was enough to quell the monsters lurking in the corners of her mind. But last night, in this haunted house, it seemed knowing Gigi was close by wasn’t enough to keep them at bay.

‘I um... I’m sorry if I woke you up. I just... oh man...’ she screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to fight the embarrassment colouring her cheeks.

‘It’s okay Dickie, really,’ Webby piped up, scrambling to her feet. She couldn’t bear to see the other girl looking so upset.

‘Yeah - we’re your family, we don’t mind.’ Huey said. His brothers added their vehement agreement.

It was all too much for Dickie. She just shook her head again and turned on her heel, making a run for it.

‘Dickie, wait!’ Webby cried, and she and the boys made to run after her but Lena stopped them.

‘You know what? Let me go.’ She said, watching over her shoulder as Dickie cut a path through the house and down the stairs.

‘But Lena -‘

‘No, really. There are some things a former shadow monster is a little better placed to understand. Let me talk to her.’

Eventually the other kids relented and let Lena go after their troubled cousin.

 

 

Dickie didn’t stop running until she made it down the stairs and out into the main entrance hall. The hall was huge and echoing, and portraits loomed over her, some familiar, some not so much. Some she recognised from the setting, but Goldie, and her mom, were missing. She remembered these paintings with them in them too. Seeing so many paintings of Scrooge, alone, was disconcerting.

Suddenly she had to get out of that room too. She looked all around for where might not be filled with taunting memories of what could have been and wasn’t, and at last she settled on the library. Books were always books, and so long as she didn’t read what was in them, she reasoned nothing could get to her in there.

Dickie slipped into the library and tucked herself into a corner, settling herself on a heap of scattered cushions and curling up, her chin on her knees. There was something comforting about thequiet, and the musty smell of books. If she closed her eyes she could even catch a whiff of her Grandpa’s favourite cigars on the air. This room at least was unchanged from the way she remembered it.

After a while, she heard the door creak open. Her head snapped up, and she wiped at her eyes quickly. Footsteps padded across the room, and she prepared herself for whoever was about to appear from behind the stacks. In the end, it turned out to be Lena.

‘Hey,’ the teenager greeted, with an awkward wave. ‘You uh... okay?’

Dickie nodded, not meeting her eye. ‘Yeah. Sorry about that. And for waking you guys up last night. I feel like such an idiot.’

‘Pfft. Please.’ Lena shrugged, moving to perch on the desk near to Dickie, her legs swinging. ‘I woke up like six times in the night, and sure I wasn’t screaming but I was, you know, scared and stuff. In the end I slept in Webby’s bed. How sad is that?’

Dickie looked down at her feet.

‘It’s not sad. I used to do that with... my cousins. When I was scared back in my world. It helps if you have someone else nearby, I guess.’

Lena nodded. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘I thought it had all stopped.’ Dickie admitted. ‘I went to college and it was normal, you know? I stopped having nightmares. But I guess being back here... but not really back where I remember. It’s weird.’

‘It must be,’ Lena said. ‘Everything is the same, but not. It’s enough to give anyone nightmares.’

Dickie cringed and shut her eyes tightly. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’ She groaned.

‘Don’t be.’ Lena insisted. ‘Look, don’t tell them I said so, but those boys, your cousins? They’re pretty cool. They won’t rag on you for it. And Webby’s a ray of sunshine, obviously.’

Dickie glanced at her, unconvinced. Lena sighed.

‘Look. My Aunt Magica tried to _kill_ them, and Scrooge, and everyone really. She used me to get into the mansion, used me to trick the boys and Webby and a load of other awful stuff. And none of them blame me for any of it. They’re annoyingly good people, these ducks.’

Dickie frowned, sticking on one part of Lena’s speech. ‘Magica’s your aunt?’ She asked, the cold grip of fear coiling in her chest once more.

Lena grimaced. ‘I mean, that’s what I called her. I guess she wasn’t really.’

‘Gigi said you were created by Magica, cast from her shadow.’ Dickie said, still frowning.

‘Yeah, that’s right.’ Lena said, picking at the sleeves of her sweater. It was still an uncomfortable subject.

Dickie stared at her for a moment, long and hard, until Lena noticed. She looked back at Dickie and their eyes met, and then Dickie shook her head.

‘No, it isn’t.’ She said firmly. ‘It can’t be. I’ve met shadows - far too many. And sure, maybe you can move through them, and you’ve definitely been _possessed_ by one, I can tell that a mile off, but... I don’t know, it’s something else. It’s something different.’

Lena shifted, uncomfortable at the scrutiny she was now under. Dickie was looking at her like she was one of Scrooge’s bold new discoveries, and she just wanted to be a regular teenager.

‘Look, whatever. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and it looks like you are.’ Lena hopped off the desk and flipped her hair, casually. ‘You should come join everyone for breakfast, when everyone else wakes up. Mrs B makes pretty amazing pancakes.’

‘Alright,’ Dickie nodded, tucking her legs under herself and sitting back again, feeling better than she had before. ‘And Lena... thanks. For well... you know.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Catch you later, slim.’

Dickie sat in the library a while longer, lost in her own thoughts. Then she got up, stretched her legs and set out intent on getting some fresh air before breakfast, out in the grounds, away from stifling memories and bright young faces set on welcoming her to a family she barely recognised. She wanted Goldie, and Scrooge, but she also wanted them to have their time alone. So she headed for the yard set on clearing her head as best she could.

 

 

When Scrooge woke, it was to sunlight streaming through the drapes. Goldie was still fast asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily under his arms. Her own hands rested on top of his, anchoring him securely to her as they slept, the diamond ring she finally accepted twinkling in the morning light. Scrooge felt his heart swell at the sight of it, and he couldn’t help but hold her tighter to him just for a moment. And in that moment, she began to stir.

‘Mmm, morning,’ she murmured, her eyes still tightly closed. Her fingers ran up and down his forearms, dancing across his sleek feathers with great affection.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you,’ Scrooge replied, pressing a kiss into her hair.

Goldie chuckled. ‘Then maybe loosen your arms so I can breathe, hmm?’

Scrooge flushed and immediately did as she suggested, while she just laughed and twisted around to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck so she could kiss him soundly.

‘That’s better,’ she said, running her fingers through his tufty whiskers and cooling the colour in his cheeks. ‘All in all, this is not a bad way to wake up.’

‘Not bad at all,’ Scrooge agreed. ‘How’d you sleep?’

‘Like a log,’ Goldie smiled, stretching out her limbs. ‘I haven’t slept that well in a long time.’

Somewhere outside, doors slammed and footsteps echoed through the mansion. Scrooge sighed. ‘We should get up, the kids are awake.’

‘Oh, they can fend for themselves for another hour or so,’ Goldie reasoned, throwing a leg over his and pulling herself up so that she straddled him comfortably. ‘I’m not quite finished with you yet, Moneybags.’

‘Curse me kilts, Goldie-girl, I’m an old man you know,’ Scrooge chuckled, but he pushed himself up onto his elbows readily despite his protests and welcomed her attentions.

‘Third time’s the charm, Scroogey,’ she teased, running her hands through his chest feathers and tugging on them to bring him up even closer to her. She leaned down to kiss him again, and he met her half way, running his hands up her sides and pulling her back down with him into the bedsheets once more.

‘I love you,’ he murmured, between kisses. She overtook his senses, just by existing. He couldn’t think to say anything else. Goldie snorted and rolled her eyes.

‘I know. Now shut up and show me you mean it. Again.’

Scrooge did as he was told.

 

 

Outside of the mansion, Dickie could finally breathe. She pulled her hoody tightly around her, wishing she’d thought to put on something more substantial over her cami and sleep shorts, and circled the house, enjoying the feeling of the grass under her feet and the early morning sun that warmed her face. Everything was simple outside, the same flowers, the same trees, the same sky. And then she founded a corner and was met with a very unfamiliar sight.

There was a houseboat in the swimming pool.

Donald Duck was standing on the deck of said boat, shaking out his washing and pegging it on a makeshift line. He didn’t spot Dickie at first, and she found herself watching the way he pottered around the deck, humming to himself and shaking his tail feathers merrily. Dickie couldn’t help but smile as she watched him, so seemingly carefree. She realised in that moment how much she’d missed having her cousins around, even if this version of Donald was so very different to the one she remembered.

Suddenly the humming stopped, and Dickie looked up to see Donald staring straight at her. Her eyes widened, she’d been caught.

‘Oh uh... sorry, I didn’t mean to... I’m just gonna go back inside and um...’ Dickie floundered. She didn’t want to go back inside, but she suddenly had absolutely no idea what to say to this Donald. She knew Donald, but she didn’t know this man. Her Donald was long gone.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Donald asked, putting down his washing.

‘I’m fine,’ Dickie said, dismissively. ‘I’m just - Gigi and Grandpa are sleeping and the kids are... well. I just needed some air.’

‘Air is good.’ Donald nodded, eyeing her carefully. ‘Coffee is better. I just made a fresh pot. You want some?’

His eyes were kind and his face was warm and open and not judgemental - Dickie felt her shoulders finally relax and the smile that lit up her face was genuine.

‘I really do,’ she admitted, eagerly. Donald grinned and opened the door of his boat, beckoning her to join him inside. Without further ado, Dickie trotted over the gang plank and hopped aboard. Once inside, she stared all around at the perfect, compact little life inside, in absolute wonder.

‘Wow - this boat is so cool! Do you live here all the time?’

Donald blinked. No one had ever called his boat ‘cool’ before.

‘Uh, yeah most of the time. Every time I get it fixed up enough to put it back in the mariner one of Scrooge’s mad adventures ends up wrecking it again.’ Donald rolled his eyes. ‘Still, easier than living in the main house. I like my own space.’

‘Ha - my mom was the same,’ Dickie grinned. ‘We lived with Grandpa and Gigi when I was really little, but then we mostly lived in an apartment in town. I spent a lot of my time here though. It was more fun.’

‘Well sure. When you’re a kid, it’s all fun and games. It’s only when you grow up you realise how it really is.’ Donald said, trailing off ominously.He poured out their coffee and went to pass a cup to Dickie, who took it gratefully and then went back to staring up at the wall of family photos before them.

‘It’s crazy, those boys look so much like you as a kid,’ Dickie grinned, her eyes dancing over the endless baby pictures. She didn’t miss the couple of dusty framed images from Donald’s own youth - an old school photo of Della, and one of the two of them cuddled up at Christmas. It looked like they’d only been added recently.

Donald noticed where her gaze was lingering and cleared this throat awkwardly, then gestured to the meagre living room set up. Dickie wasn’t phased, she hopped into a patched up, comfy arm chair with ease.

‘So, what drama did I miss in the big house?’ Donald asked, knowingly. ‘Why’d you need to come out for air?’

Dickie sighed, heavily. She stared down at her coffee, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

‘I had a nightmare and I woke everyone up, and now the kids are all looking at me like I’m a ticking time bomb and... ugh. I don’t know, maybe it was crazy to think I could just come here and be normal, you know?’

‘Normal isn’t really a thing for this family.’ Donald shrugged.

‘No, I guess it’s not. I mean the last time I saw you you were younger than me. I used to babysit you. Now you’re a grown up, with a house boat and three kids.’

Donald nodded. ‘Yep. This family is weird.’

‘Donald... can I ask you something?’ Dickie couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t keep it in. She was curious, and there was so much she didn’t know. She figured this was a good place to start.

‘Sure.’

‘Where’s Della?’ Dickie asked. Donald’s face fell, and she knew then her suspicions were correct. ‘Something happened.’ She surmised.

‘Yeah, something happened.’ Donald nodded. His voice was strained, like the very mention of it hurt to even talk about aloud. ‘She’s gone. She’s been gone for ten years now. Scrooge built a rocket and she took it and got lost in space and now... she’s gone.’

‘Wow.’ Dickie breathed. She hadn’t been expecting that.

‘Yeah.’ Donald looked down at his hands. ‘We don’t really talk about it.’

‘That must have been really hard. For all of you.’

‘It’s never really been the same. We used to be a really close family - and we are again now I suppose. But me and Scrooge... not so much.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, me too.’

They settled into silence, but it was a comfortable one. Dickie realised she may not know this Donald, but she could. He was still Donald, just without Della. And Donald without Della was incomplete, but Dickie loved him all the same.

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics, though more often than not they ended up drifting back to good old fashioned McDuck family adventure, and Donald’s dwindling affinity for it, and the complications it brought with it.

‘I get it.’ Dickie said, and then when Donald looked surprised she felt the need to clarify. ‘I mean, I never... I was lucky, I guess. I came along later. But my mom went through a lot of drama with Grandpa, and with Gigi... she grew up going on all sorts of crazy adventures with them, it was simple when she was little but then when she was a teenager it got more complicated.’

‘Everything gets more complicated when you get older. Adventures are dangerous. When you grow up you realise that.’ Donald said, almost to himself.

‘Well yeah, but _you_ still go on adventures.’ Dickie pointed out. Donald looked uncomfortable, and Dickie sensed she was getting too presumptuous again.

‘You know the boys and I have only been here for a year or so.’ Donald said. ‘Before that, Scrooge and I didn’t speak for ten years.’

‘ _Ten_ _years_?’ Dickie repeated, her jaw dropped.

‘Yeah.’ Donald shrugged. ‘Like I said, everything got complicated.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re back.’ Dickie said, firmly. ‘It wouldn’t be home if you weren’t part of that picture. And the boys - Della’s boys - they seem really great.’

‘They are,’ Donald smiles, proudly. Then his eyes clouded over a little. ‘They’re so like her. And like Scrooge. They live for adventure.’

‘I always wanted to go with them, when I was little.’ Dickie said. ‘It drove my mom crazy too, she was always so paranoid. I got bitten with the adventure bug young, just like she did, only I didn’t grow up to hate it the way she did.’

‘What happened with them? With your mom and her parents, I mean?’ Donald asked, curious. He’d assumed everything in their alternate universe family was just peachy - until the Shadow War. It was almost reassuring to know they’d had their struggles to, their otherwise apparently perfect counterparts.

‘Mom didn’t even live with Grandpa and Gigi again until I came along.’ Dickie explained. ‘She moved out of the mansion when she turned eighteen, she’d had enough of adventure and they had this big fight about Grandpa’s money and Gigi’s stealing and it was a whole thing. She never told me all the gory details but I know it was bad. Anyway she went off on her own for a while, spent half of the sixties high as a kite, marching in protests and making daisy chains, and chasing after bands until she got pregnant with me and then, well, she came home. I don’t know the exact circumstances, I’m sure it wasn’t as simple as all that.’

Donald froze, his mug of coffee half way to his beak. The look on his face was a perfect mix of horror and delight.

‘Wait... are you telling me Scrooge McDuck hatched a hippie?’

Dickie laughed. ‘Oh yeah, and Gigi never let him forget it.’

Donald looked like all his Christmases had come at once. His eyes lit up. ‘Please can I be there when you tell him?’

Dickie grinned, and Donald laughed, and they finished their coffee while sharing stories about the mad families - the same but different, and often complex, but always filled with love.

 

 

Later, after Dickie and Donald had finished their coffee and ventured back to the main house to see if anyone had officially surfaced, Dickie found herself piled upon by the whole diminutive household. Lena looked on, smirking, while the boys and Webby practically climbed up her skinny frame, and dragged her through to the dining room for pancakes and adventure planning. Donald rolled his eyes and followed, at a safe distance.

They found Scrooge and Goldie already at breakfast, side by side and closer than the table settings really allowed. Goldie was whispering something that made Scrooge blush bright red and leap to his feet the moment his kids entered. He brushed her off and she cackled in amusement.

‘Morning troops,’ Goldie said with a grin. ‘What time do you call this?’

‘Uh, time for the old people to stop smooching and making goo goo eyes at each other, and focus on finding some treasure?’ Louie grumbled good-naturedly, climbing up onto his chair and reaching for the syrup to slather on the stack of pancakes Mrs Beakley had just deposited in front of him.

‘Treasure? Are we going on an adventure?’ Webby’s eyes lit up and she sat down too, saving a spot on either side of her for Dickie and Lena. Lena claimed the seat on the right, and so Dickie settled uncertainly into the chair next to Scrooge.

‘Launchpad needs to do some repairs to the Sunchaser but by the weekend I think we can manage to squeeze in a little excursion,’ Scrooge said, while the kids all cheered.

Goldie tore herself away from the old man’s side and crossed to Dickie, hugging her granddaughter close and dropping a hiss on her forehead.

‘Morning sweetheart,’ she said quietly, while the kids all babbled about treasure and maps and booby traps. Dickie leaned into her side, relishing the contact. ‘How you doing, kiddo?’

‘I’m okay,’ Dickie promised. ‘Sorry I woke you last night.’

‘Oh hush,’ Goldie waved her hand. ‘You can wake me up as much as you like. I’m a light sleeper, you know me.’

‘Thanks Gigi,’ Dickie whispered, squeezing her hand briefly. Goldie smiled sincerely and then went back to her seat the other side of Scrooge.

‘Well, what do you think Dickie? Fancy joining us on a little trip to the Himalayas?’ Scrooge asked, a little hesitantly. Dickie couldn’t help but glance at Donald, who rolled his eyes and nodded encouragingly. Dickie turned back to Scrooge and grinned nervously.

‘Sure... if that’s okay.’

‘It’s more than okay. It’s fantastic!’ Scrooge chuckled merrily. ‘That said, we’re going to have to install a few more seat belts on the plane.’

‘Well you know, you and I can always share one Scroogey-poo,’ Goldie teased with a wink. Dickie snorted as the boys and Lena all pulled faces of utter disgust. Scrooge rolled his eyes but didn’t deny the suggestion, which amused Dickie even more. They were out of control, her grandparents. She’d missed them so very much.

And that was when she noticed something glittering on Goldie’s left hand.

‘Wait - What’s that?’ She said suddenly, and all the kids stopped and followed her gaze. Scrooge’s eyes flew open wide and Goldie shifted uncomfortably. Dickie frowned. ‘Where did you get that ring?’

Goldie set her most casual mask in place and shrugged. ‘Where do you think I got it, genius?’

Dickie wasn’t deferred. ‘That’s your engagement ring. Did you and Grandpa get engaged? Are you going to get MARRIED?’

Scrooge choked on his tea.

‘OH MY GOSH!’ Webby gasped, very nearly entirely overcome. Dewey and Lena had to hold her still, lest she vibrate off her chair from pure excitement and joy.

‘NO.’ Goldie denied firmly, clutching her hand to her chest as though covering the ring from view would wipe its existence from their minds. ‘Dickie, seriously. Are you mad? _NO_.’

‘But you’re wearing the ring.’ Dickie sputtered. ‘That’s _the_ ring! My great-great-grandmother’s ring!’

‘We are not getting married. It’s a piece of jewellery not a damn contract.’ Goldie repeated, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at Scrooge. ‘This is your fault, McDuck.’

Scrooge couldn’t manage to look contrite. His grin took over his whole face. Still, he managed to deny it at least.

‘Kids, no one’s getting married. After all, weddings are an enormously unnecessary expense.’

‘Exactly. Wait - that’s not the reason!’

‘And anyway, your Aunt Goldie has a life of her own somewhere else, and a business to run, and plenty of people to swindle. But... aside from all that, she’s going to be around here a lot more.’ He glanced at Goldie, seeking confirmation. ‘Right?’

Goldie, however, did not give him the satisfaction. Instead, her eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Did you just give them permission to call me _Aunt_ _Goldie_?’

‘WOOHOO! AUNT GOLDIE!’

Goldie smacked her hand to her forehead and glared at Scrooge. ‘Oh, I hate you.’

Scrooge grinned. ‘No, you don’t.’

Goldie kicked him under the table, but then she found herself stumbling back under the weight of three triplets and their de facto sister, who all leapt on her in a flurry of affection and excitement, chattering none stop.

‘Aunt Goldie will you take us to a DEMON DIMENSION?? Scrooge has never let us go.’

‘No - the Klondike! Let’s go back to the place you and Scrooge first met!’

‘Can we TIME TRAVEL?’

‘How fancy are your hotels, Aunt Goldie? Can we go stay in one? Dickie said one of them has a FOUNTAIN OF LIQUID GOLD!’

And so it continued. Dickie watched with absolute amazement as her grandmother fended off these children with good-natured jibes and mock dismissal, seeing so much of the Gigi she remembered in the woman in front of her now. But she was still Goldie. In Dickie’s mind they were one and the same, but she knew this was a leap for all of them.

After a moment, she noticed Scrooge wasn’t watching the mad scene in front of him, instead he was watching her. She immediately flushed, self conscious at being caught staring in such wonderment.

‘Er - Dickie,’ Scrooge began, somewhat awkwardly. ‘I need to go down to the Money Bin this afternoon. Check on a few things. Would you care to join me?’

‘Join you? At... at work?’ Dickie frowned. While she wanted to spend time with her grandfather, she couldn’t pretend to be excited about an afternoon twiddling her thumbs in the Money Bin.

‘Well it’s a nice drive.’ Scrooge shrugged. ‘And there are some things we should talk about, you and I. I have a couple of meetings to sit through once I get there but I thought you might like to spend a bit of time in the lab.’

‘The lab? You mean Gyro’s lab? Would he be okay with that?’

‘He has to be. I pay him.’

Dickie giggled, thinking back to the first time she’d spent an afternoon in Gyro’s lab as a kid and started her life long quest to drive him crazy. It was like stepping back in time.

‘And after I’m done with my meetings, perhaps we could go and... get an ice cream. Or something.’

‘Ice cream?’ Dickie repeated, with a bright grin. ‘That’s a rather frivolous expense, isn’t it?’

‘Ordinarily I’d agree with you,’ Scrooge nodded, sombrely. ‘But it’s not every day I get to take my granddaughter out for ice cream. Indulge an old man, will you?’

Dickie’s smile could have lit up the whole world. ‘Sure Grandpa, that sounds great.’

Over the heads of their madcap, unlikely little family, Scrooge and Goldie’s eyes met. After a hundred and twenty years of avoidance and denial, here they were. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. As Donald encouraged the kids to return to their seats in time for Mrs Beakley to bring in another round of pancakes, and Dickie was drawn into an excitable conversation with Webby and Lena, Scrooge and Goldie shifted closer to each other again, their fingers entwined under the dining table.

And just for a moment, everything was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNTIL IT WASN’T... (just kidding) ((OR AM I??))
> 
> That’s the last full chapter! I think i’ll add a little epilogue so watch out for that this weekend. 
> 
> What a ride this one has been. Unexpectedly fluffy and emotional toward the end. I had to stop myself or i’d have just kept on writing duck fluff forever. 
> 
> Reviews and comments always welcome! I love to hear what you think! Xx


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave you a fluffy ending. Please remember that. And if you don’t want the set up of YET MORE ANGST AND DRAMA I recommend that you just leave it there. They all lived happily ever after, honest. Nothing to see here, guv’nor.
> 
>  
> 
> For everyone else... here’s a little Lena-centric epilogue to smash all your hopes and dreams.

Epilogue

Six months later

The sun had barely begun to rise over the Duckburg skyline when Lena crept through the mansion.

She cut through the living room, where Scrooge and Goldie had fallen asleep in front of the fire that now smouldered away to almost nothing in the grate, snuggled in their favourite armchair under several tartans and a fur throw, a half finished bottle of Goldie’s favourite wine on the table beside them. Goldie’s head was tucked under Scrooge’s chin, and his arms were wrapped snugly around her, holding her to him as though they’d been apart for years and not just the month Goldie had spent up at her hotel in Dawson. Lena rolled her eyes as she passed them, fully aware of how grumpy they would both be when they finally woke. Their old bones would complain for days - and they would too. But for now, she supposed it was kind of sweet. If you liked that sort of thing.

It was too early to encounter anyone else, asleep or otherwise. Even Duckworth didn’t tent to float down from the astral plane until after seven AM. And so, the route was clear as she made her way through the mansion to the not-so-secret entrance to the Other Bin.

Dickie’s words all those months ago before she went back to school replayed over and over in Lena’s mind.

‘ _You can’t be a shadow. I’ve met shadows, far too many. It’s something else. Something different_.’

Something else. Something different. But what? 

She tried to ignore it, tried to push it from her mind. She had a sweet deal here - a roof over her head, grown ups who loved and looked out for her, friends who had become family. She literally lived in a trillionaire’s mansion. She shouldn’t be trying to uncover any kind of secret that might threaten that.

And yet... she couldn’t help but want to know. She needed to know. She had to understand who she was, where she came from. If it truly wasn’t Magica, if Dickie was right... well, she had to have come from somewhere.

And so she found herself sneaking into the Other Bin, set on finding answers. It wasn’t the first time either. In fact, she’d spent pretty much every morning for the past month down there, cautiously trying doors and combing through ancient tomes, just as she knew Webby had done when she was trying to get Lena back in the first place.

So far, all of her searching had come to nothing and she’d snuck back upstairs empty handed. Until that morning, when she chanced to slip into Vault number 31057 and stumbled across something very curious indeed.

The room was empty, save for a solitary shape in the middle, covered with a dusty sheet. Intrigued, Lena tugged carefully on the corner and the fabric slipped easily away, falling to the floor in a heap and revealing a simple, gold framed mirror.

Lena peered into it, cautiously. There were no cracks she could see but even so, she’d spent enough time with Magica to know the dangers of a magic mirror when she saw one. Taking care not to linger too long on the reflection itself, she stepped a little closer and brushed a thick layer of dust off the frame so she could read the inscription.

It was written in runes, but she had come prepared. Webby had translated pretty much every artefact they’d found since the McDuck family adventures began, and so she’d amassed quite a collection of code breaker notes, which Lena has dutifully copied out before embarking on her quest. It didn’t take long for her to find the runes, which matched the ones on the broken pieces of oubliette door that Scrooge and Goldie had brought back with them after that fateful adventure, when the kids and Scrooge had first met Dickie. Lena scribbled out the translation and then stood back, her eyes darting to her own reflection when she came to say them out loud.

‘ _Look into me, and you will see, that which you ought truly to be_.’

For a moment, nothing happened. Lena breathed a sigh of relief. And then, everything changed. 

Lena gasped, twirling around when she saw a figure appear suddenly within the frame. There was nothing and no one behind her, and when she looked properly into the mirror she saw... not herself, but a version of herself she didn’t recognise at all. Her hair was long, and from her back wings sprouted - not bird’s wings, but lacy, almost petal-like, a sort of delicate membrane that didn’t belong on a duck.

Lena panicked and leapt back, twisting to scratch at her shoulder blades in search of the strange wings she’d just seen protruding in her own reflection. There was nothing there, nothing she could grasp, but her back burned and itched as though something was desperately trying to break through her skin.

Somewhere in the distance, a door opened and a voice echoed through the darkness.

‘Lena?’ The voice called, nervous and hopeful all at the same time. Webby. Damn, she’d been down here longer than she’d realised.

Lena wasted no time in throwing the sheet back over the mirror, hurrying out of the vault and bolting the door behind her. Breathing heavily, she pulled her sweater tightly around herself and ducked into the shadows, making her way back through the Other Bin and venturing back upstairs before she could be found. She didn’t want to explain this one, not even to Webby. She couldn’t. She didn’t even know how to explain it to herself.

She managed to make it to main hall before she encountered anyone. Of course, the person she encountered was Webby.

‘Lena! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ Webby looked just as delighted to see her best friend as she always did, but that morning Lena couldn’t bear it. It was too much.

‘Jeez, can’t a girl get even a minute of privacy?’ She snapped, more harshly than she’d expected to. Webby’s eyes flew open wide and her face fell, and for some reason that just irritated Lena more. ‘Can’t you just leave me alone for ten seconds, Webby!’

At that moment, Scrooge and Goldie emerged from the living room, stretching out the kinks in their muscles after a night of cozy if uncomfortable sleep.

‘What’s going on out here?’ Scrooge grumbled, as he tried to straighten out his neck which seemed to have set at a wrong angle at some point in the night. ‘Lena, Webby, it’s not like you to be causing a racket before breakfast.’

Mrs Beakley appeared then from the kitchen, having heard the raised voices. When she saw her granddaughter’s stricken expression, her eyes narrowed. Lena glared back, stony faced.

‘Lena, what has gotten into you?’ Beakley asked, when Webby ducked behind her, hiding her face in her grandmother’s skirt so that Lena couldn’t see her eyes filling with tears. But Lena did see, of course she did, she couldn’t not notice her friend getting upset, even when she was the cause.

When Lena’s heart constricted in her chest, it released something else. A kind of rage she’d never felt began to bubble and rise within her, until she felt she might just turn green and become the De Spell she’d always feared she could be. 

‘God you just never stop! I can’t breathe in this place! Why can’t you all just leave me alone?’

The air crackled with static as the teenager stomped heavily upstairs, not toward her and Webby’s room but instead to one of the unoccupied guest rooms on the other side of the house. The slam of her chosen door echoed through the whole house, shaking the paintings in the walls.

 

In that same moment, many miles away, on the site of a forgotten adventure, the ground of an ancient hillside began to churn and tremble, and above the hill, out of sight and out of mind... shadows began to form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN-DUN-DUNNNNNNNNNNN!
> 
> The McDuck-O’Gilt-Duck-Vanderquack-De Spell gang will return one final time in the thrilling conclusion of the Hearts of Gold trilogy (which I haven’t named yet).
> 
> Okay, that’s really the end of this one now. Thanks for sticking with me! I hope you don’t now hate me. I’m sorting out the complex women of this family one at a time okay? And it’s Lena’s turn next. At least Scroldie are happy and falling asleep in front of the fire like adorable old people right? Right??? 
> 
> I love each and every of you who reads my rambling stories, and especially the ones who tell me about it. Honestly, I’m a simple soul with a standard amount of self-worth issues and your comments and kudos keep me paddling. Thank you and goodnight from The Last McDuck!


End file.
